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THE STAR JEWELS AND OTHER WON- 
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HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 

Boston and New York 


THE STAR JEWELS AND OTHER 
WONDERS 



WAVILOCKS AND THE CRAB (Page 10) 






THE STAR JEWELS 

AND OTHER WONDERS 


m 

ABBJE FABWELL 

BROWN 

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PICTURES BY ETHEL C. BROWN 



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STAR JEWELS 


AND 


OTHER WONDERS 


ABBIE FARWELL 
BROWN 


PICTURES BY ETHEL C. BROWN 


BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
(Cbe C\toer?ibe pee??, Cambridge 
1905 


LIBRARY Of JOMGRESS 

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JUL 28 1905 

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COPYRIGHT 1905 BY ABBIE FARWELL BROWN 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 


Published September iqoj 


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To the Mermaid of the Pink Grotto 



Thanks are due to the publishers of The Church- 
man for permission to reprint “ The Star Jewels,” 
“ The Balloon Boy,” “ Trees,” and “ Child or 
Fairy; ” to The Interior for “ Karl and the Dryad; ” 
and to The Congregationalist for “The Green Cap.” 


“ Why nature loves the number five, 
And why the star-form she repeats.” 


FORE-WORD 


In the land of Far-away, 

In the time of Used-to-be, 
Wonders happened, so folk say, 
Which we all should like to see. 

But perhaps, if we knew how, 

In the pleasant land of Here, 

In the lovely time of Now, 

We could witness sights as queer. 

Oh, for Faith without an end, 

And the blessed eyes to see 1 
Let us beg the Fairies send 
Such a gift to You and Me. 








4 














* 









CONTENTS 


Stories 


The Star Jewels . 
The Balloon Boy 
The Green Cap 
Karl and the Dryad 
The Indian Fairy . 


PAGE 

1 

23 

41 

65 

95 


Rhymes 


Foreword . 
Ocean Wonders 
Balloons 
Child or Fairy 
Trees . 

Fairies . 


IX 

21 

40 

64 

93 

134 


Pictures 

Wavilocks and the Crab . 
The Little Man 
The Old Woman is surprised 
Karl and the Dryad . 

Rob and the Indian Fairy 


31 ^ 
55 - 
73 
131 






THE STAR JEWELS 



THE STAR JEWELS 

Once upon a time there was a little mermaid 
who lived down at the bottom of the sea in a 
cave of pink coral. Her cheeks were as pink 
as the coral itself ; her teeth were like a row 
of the pearls which hung around her neck ; 
and her hair — which was very long and 
wavy — was as green as the greenest seaweed 
you ever saw. And though green hair sounds 
strange to us, it was accounted a mermaid’s 
greatest beauty. Her name was Wavilocks. 
Also she had instead of two rosy feet a funny 
little scaly tail with which she steered herself 
through the water. She was a famous swimmer. 


4 


THE STAR JEWELS 


Wavilocks was a pretty little mermaid, and 
old Triton, her father, doted upon her and 
spoiled her, as foolish papas sometimes do. He 
gave his little daughter everything that she 
wanted, — everything in the wide ocean which 
a sea-child could wish. She had her own little 
coral playroom, with its toys of shell and 
sponge; and her pets among the fishes and cu- 
rious ocean creatures. She had a living flower- 
garden of beautiful sea anemones, pink and 
purple, yellow and red. She had a little chariot 
all her own, in which to ride about the sea, 
like the grown-up ocean folk. It was of pinky, 
pearl-lined shell, most beautiful, and it was 
drawn by a span of sea-horses, the sweetest 
little fellows in the whole kingdom of Neptune. 

She had also the prettiest things for her 
toilet, — golden combs, with which to comb 
her long green hair, mirrors of polished pearl, 
and fans of coral, scarves of silky seaweed, and 
ornaments of shell. But the thing of which 
she was most proud was the beautiful neck- 
lace of pearls which her father had given her. 
All the mermaids wore lovely necklaces, but 


THE STAR JEWELS 


5 


Wavilocks had the most beautiful of any. 
Old Triton, who knew every cave and corner 
of the sea, had scoured and scraped the ocean 
treasuries to find the finest pearls for his little 
daughter. She wore always about her neck a 
long rope of them, wound around and around, 
such as the Sea Queen herself could not match. 
Some of the pearls were as big as kernels of 
corn ; some were as big as grapes ; and a few 
were like hen’s eggs, as large and smooth, 
and twice as white as the whitest. Nobody 
ever saw such pearls as Wavilocks wore about 
her neck every day of her life. The sea-mothers 
found fault with doting old Triton, and said 
he had no business to let a little mermaid wear 
such gorgeous jewels. But when he told Wavi- 
locks of this, she chuckled and said that they 
were jealous because they had no such jewels 
themselves. She may have been partly right 
about this, but they were right too in what 
they said. 

Now you would think that Wavilocks must 
have been contented and happy in her lovely 
home, where she had everything that a little 


6 


THE STAR JEWELS 


mermaid could wish. And she was happy so 
long as she could have her own way. But 
there came a time when she could not have 
her own way, and then she grew sulky and 
discontented. For days and days she moped 
in her coral playroom, and nothing that poor 
old Triton could do made her smile. 

What do you suppose she wanted ? She had 
happened to sit up one night later than a little 
young mermaid should, and she had seen the 
diamond stars twinkling in the sky. She wanted 
them for a necklace ! She declared that she 
must have them for a necklace. She was tired 
of her beautiful rope of pearls, and vowed that 
she would not wear it any more unless she 
could have the starry one to wear with it. 
This made poor Triton very unhappy, for he 
had taken great pride in his beautiful gift to 
his little daughter, but now she cared nothing 
at all for it, and demanded something which 
he could not give her. 

The naughty little mermaid teased and wept 
and refused to be good. “ I shall cry always, 
always, until I have those lovely stars. Boo- 


THE STAR JEWELS 7 

hoo ! ” she sobbed. Her father was at bis wit’s 
end. He worried and worried because it would 
be dreadful to have Wavilocks always crying 
for something which he could not give her. 
He worried until his green hair began to turn 
white, and his poor old eyes looked as wild as 
those of a cuttle-fish. Then he said to himself : 

“ I will go to King Neptune and see whether 
he can help me or no. Perhaps he will tell me 
how I can get the stars from the sky for Wavi- 
locks, for I am sure I do not know.” 

That very night Triton went to the King’s 
beautiful palace in the deepest, greenest part 
of the sea, and told him how his little daughter 
needed a starry necklace which he could not 
get for her. And he begged the Sea King to 
tell him what must be done. But Neptune 
looked very stern. 

“ Tell your child,” he said, pulling his sea- 
green beard, which waved to and fro in the 
water, “tell her that she is an ungrateful 
daughter, and that I forbid her to think any 
longer of the far-off jewels. Already she has 
the most beautiful necklace in the sea, — such 


8 


THE STAR JEWELS 


a one as not even my Queen can match. A 
starry necklace is fit only for the Sky Queen 
to wear. No other may possess those wonder- 
ful jewels. There are fair enough gems in the 
sea for any mermaid’s use. If she cannot be 
content with them she shall be punished.” 

Old Triton was alarmed at these words, 
for he could not bear to think of his dear daugh- 
ter being punished. V ery sadly he went home, 
and very sadly he told Wavilocks what the 
King had said. 

“ He does not wish me to have the starry 
necklace, because the Queen has none,” pouted 
the naughty little mermaid. “ But I must have 
it, I will have it, or I shall cry always and 
always.” 

Instead of spanking her, as he should have 
done, Triton only shook his head and said 
sadly, — 

“ I would gladly give it to you if I might, 
dear daughter. But the King has spoken. 
The stars are not for you ; you must not even 
think of them again. Never go out when they 
are shining in the sky. Be a good girl, and 


THE STAR JEWELS 


9 


to-morrow I will bring you a beautiful new 
coral belt, such as no mermaid ever before 
wore.” 

But Wavilocks sulked and sniffed and de- 
clared that she did not want a coral belt, and 
she would not kiss her kind father good-night. 
He sighed and went away, poor merman, to 
his thinking-place in a rocky cavern. 

Now there was one creature who had over- 
heard the talk between Wavilocks and her 
father, and his little eyes gleamed wickedly 
at mention of the starry necklace. The Crab 
was the most evil of all the sea-creatures, and 
old Triton had forbidden Wavilocks ever to 
play with him or listen to his words. The sea- 
folk hated the Crab because of his mischiev- 
ousness and because of his wicked history. 
He had not always been the sneaking nui- 
sance of the sea. Once, long before, he had 
lived in the sky. He was a cousin of the great 
Sky Crab, the guardian of the star-jewels, and 
once he too had helped to take care of them. 
But because he had tried to steal a few for 
his own use, the big Sky Crab had indig- 


10 THE STAR JEWELS 

nantly cast him out of heaven, down to the 
lowest depths of the sea. Oh, yes, the Crab 
knew all about the stars which Wavilocks so 
longed to own ! 

Wavilocks had never been told this story, 
but she knew that she must never have any- 
thing to do with the ugly, crawling fellow. 
And so, when she heard his harsh voice close 
beside her cradle, she ought not to have 
listened. 

“ Hist ! ” said the voice. “ Hist ! ” 

Wavilocks knew who it was, and she knew 
that sly whisper meant mischief. She herself 
was feeling very naughty. 

“ What is it, Crab ? ” she whispered. 

“I have accidentally overheard what you 
were saying to Master Triton,” he hissed, 
“ and I do not blame you at all. The King 
is wrong. You, fairest Mermaid, ought to 
wear the starry necklace, — it is your right. 
The jewels are said to be even more beautiful 
when closely seen. But they are hardly fair 
enough for you ! ” 

So spoke the wicked old Crab with a flat- 


THE STAR JEWELS 11 

tering tongue. Wavilocks was pleased. “I 
should like to see them closely/’ she said. 

“ One could climb up there, I think,” said 
the Crab slyly. 

“ Oh, how ? Tell me how it can be done, 
dear Crab?” cried Wavilocks eagerly. The 
Crab winked one eye. 

“ There is a silver staircase that leads up to 
the moon. Sometimes one can see it, some- 
times not. To-night it is very bright. The 
moon is a round silver doorway through which 
streams light, and beyond it is a beautiful 
land where my cousin, the Sky Crab, lives and 
has charge of the star jewels. I have always 
wanted to go up there and see him, but I do 
not care to go alone. If I could find some one 
to go with me — ” The Crab stopped and 
sighed. 

“ Oh, how I should like to go with you, 
Crab ! ” exclaimed Wavilocks, sitting up on 
the edge of her cradle. “ But my father and 
the King have forbidden me even to think of 
the starry jewels.” 

“ Nonsense ! ” whispered the Crab. “Come 


12 


THE STAR JEWELS 


with me to-night, and for my sake my cousin 
will give you all the stars you wish.” 

“Oh, I dare not go ! ” sighed Wavilocks. 
“ The King will punish me for disobeying 
him.” 

“ Pooh ! ” snorted the Crab. “ He would 
never know. Let us go this very night. I 
long to see my dear cousin. I can scarcely 
wait another minute ! ” (What a wicked story 
that was !) 

Wavilocks slipped out of her cradle. “I 
can hardly wait another minute to have those 
star jewels ! ” she cried. “ Yes, I will go. 
Come then, wise Crab, and show me the way.” 

“ I will take you upon my back,” said the 
Crab. “We shall travel faster so, since you 
have no feet for climbing.” 

Wavilocks seated herself upon his broad 
shell, and away he crawled, the wicked fellow, 
very stealthily, so as not to be seen by the 
grown-up sea people, and especially by old 
Triton. 

Up and up they went until they came to 
the surface of the sea, where the big silver 


THE STAR JEWELS 


13 


moon was shining upon the water, glorious 
and bright. 

u Look where the flight of silver stairs 
comes down to the sea,” said the Crab, point- 
ing with his claw. “ We will climb up there, 
Wavilocks, and pay a visit to my dear cousin. 
How glad he will be to see us ! ” And he 
chuckled wickedly to think how he was going 
to repay the Big Crab for having turned him 
out of the sky. 

Out to the bright spot upon the water where 
the silver moonbeam staircase touched the sea 
crept the Crab, with Wavilocks upon his back. 
And no one saw them go. They reached the 
foot of the stairs and began to climb, — up 
and up, step by step, while the little mer- 
maid’s green hair streamed out behind. Her 
long pearl necklace she used as a bridle, and 
so she drove her strange steed up the steep 
way, until they reached the silver gateway of 
the moon. The door was open, and from the 
wonderful sky-land beyond the light streamed 
out, so that Wavilocks was dazzled. But she 
was even more dazzled when they had passed 


14 


THE STAR JEWELS 


through the gateway and came out upon the 
wide sky floor, where burned and flashed, with 
a thousand rainbow colors, the five-pointed star- 
jewels which she had seen shining from afar. 

“ Oh, the beautiful diamond stars ! ” cried 
Wavilocks. “ Let us make haste to find your 
cousin, the Big Crab, that he may give us 
some for my necklace.” 

But the Crab winked his eye. “ We need 
not wait for that,” he said. 66 My cousin loves 
me so well that I am sure of his generosity to 
you. Let us pick all we wish first, and then we 
will go to him. But hist ! We must be very 
quiet about it, or the other sky-people will 
learn what is being done, and will be jealous.” 

The two set eagerly to work, gathering up 
the jewels which lay sprinkled over the velvet 
sky-carpet like daisies in a meadow. The Crab 
gathered them star by star with his clumsy claw, 
as one would pick berries. W avilocks scooped 
the five-pointed stars by handfuls, and poured 
them into the great conch shell which she had 
brought for the purpose, until it was brimming 
over with rainbow flashes. 


THE STAR JEWELS 


15 


“ Oh, what a wonderful necklace I shall 
have, — grander than any one ever saw be- 
fore ! ” cried the greedy little mermaid. 

“ Oh, how angry the old Crab will be when 
he sees how we have robbed his treasure ! ” 
chuckled her wicked companion to himself; 
and they went to work even faster than before. 

Suddenly there was a loud noise behind 
them. 

“Wooh! Hooh ! ” cried a terrible voice. 
“ Robbers, wretched robbers, what are you 
doing with my jewels ? ” 

Wavilocks screamed and the Sea Crab gave 
a snort of fear. There behind them was the 
Big Crab, sprawling his enormous ugly shape 
among the stars. His great claws were snap- 
ping viciously, and his goggle eyes were glar- 
ing at the pair, as he crawled nearer and 
nearer. 

“ It is the Crab ! ” gasped Wavilocks’ com- 
panion. “ I am lost ! ” and away he scuttled 
as fast as his claws would take him, while the 
little mermaid clung to his back as well as she 
could, for he had quite forgotten her. Then 


16 


THE STAR JEWELS 


began a dreadful race to the shining stair-case. 
The great Sky Crab clattered after them, puff- 
ing and blowing out fire. 

“Wicked Sea Crab,” he cried, “so it is 
you who again are seeking to rob me of the 
precious stars entrusted to my care. You have 
come up here from your nasty, moist den in 
the sea, to which I tossed you. Moreover, you 
have brought this strange sea-creature to help 
you steal the jewels. Ah ! this time I will 
punish you both.” 

They could feel the flaming breath of the 
Big Crab. It scorched, it sizzled, it melted 
the hard shell of the Sea Crab until it became 
soft and useless. It crisped the mermaid’s 
pretty green hair, which streamed out behind 
her in their rapid flight. Wavilocks screamed. 
Her awkward steed hissed with terror, dislodg- 
ing many stars from their settings as he scram- 
bled among them. At last they were almost 
safe at the head of the staircase, when Wavi- 
locks felt the great claw of the Big Crab seize 
the necklace of pearls which hung about her 
neck. Snap ! The string broke, and the pearls 


THE STAR JEWELS 


17 


went flying helter-skelter over the sky, scatter- 
ing themselves among the stars. 

“ My necklace, oh, my necklace ! ” wailed 
she, but they could not stop to gather up the 
lost pearls. 

They had reached the stairs. The Crab 
plunged forward, and they tumbled and rolled 
and slid down from the sky to the sea, into 
which they fell with a great splash. Glad 
enough they were to cool their poor scorched 
bodies in the wetness. Down, down, they sank 
together to the bottom of the ocean, two very 
miserable creatures. 

Now the Crab had shriveled and shrunk 
and become the tiniest, most pitiful little fel- 
low you ever saw. Moreover he was now quite 
helpless and unprotected. 

For his hard shell, which had served him as 
a shield against his enemies, was now melted 
and soft, and was no longer of any use to him. 
He was at the mercy of the whole sea, which 
was indignant at his new wickedness. Thence- 
forth he must slink and hide away wherever 
he could, an outcast thief. He became the 


18 


THE STAR JEWELS 


Hermit Crab, whom to-day one finds borrow- 
ing the shells which other tiny creatures have 
abandoned, creeping away into dim corners, 
and always carrying his home upon his back, 
because he is afraid to venture his poor, un- 
protected body out of doors. 

Neptune decreed that the wicked Crab 
needed no other punishment worse than this. 
As for Wavilocks, she also had been punished 
enough. The beautiful green hair which had 
been her pride was scorched into an ugly 
brown. Sobbing with shame, she cut it off — 
all its splendid length, and tossed it away into 
the sea. Sometimes you may find strands of it 
nowadays, washed ashore by the tide. Long, 
long afterward her green hair grew again ; but 
for months and years she was laughed at and 
teased about her short mop of brown hair, 
so unfashionable in the sea-kingdom. A sad 
little mermaid she was in those days. For not 
only had she lost her wavy locks, but the 
lovely rope of pearls was gone forever, scattered 
among the jewels of the sky. You can see 
some of them to this day if you look hard 


THE STAR JEWELS 


19 


among the flashing stars ; bright jewels they 
are, but they do not twinkle like the others. 
The Big Crab now watches over them also 
with his other treasures, and it would have 
to be a sly thief indeed who could steal them 
back again. Wavilocks must go without any 
necklace, although the other mermaids wear 
theirs proudly. Yes, she has no necklace at all. 
For what do you think became of the stars 
which she went so far to steal and had so sad 
a time in gathering ? 

Wavilocks had clung closely to the conch 
shell which held her stolen treasure during all 
the terrible time of her fall down the silver 
staircase. And when she came to the bottom 
of the sea she still held it fast. But alas ! 
When the poor little scorched mermaid came 
to look at the stars which she had hoped to 
wear about her neck, she found that they had 
sadly changed. The shell was full of some- 
thing living, something squirming and cold. 
One by one she took out the five-pointed stars 
which had been so beautiful, and they had 
come alive; they were star-fish! The first 


20 THE STAR JEWELS 

star-fish that had ever been seen in the 

ocean. 

How Wavilocks screamed when the moist, 
writhing feelers touched her hand ! So this 
was the end of the lovely necklace which she 
had hoped to wear so proudly, — a conch-shell 
full of ugly, wriggling sea-stars. She tossed 
them away as far as she could, and fled 
sobbing to her poor old father, who tried to 
comfort her, and forgot to punish her for dis- 
obeying him. 

Poor little sea-stars ! One cannot help pity- 
ing them, who used to be the beautiful jewels 
of the sky. One sees them sometimes lying 
in the pools, red and purple, blue, pink and 
yellow ; beautiful colors indeed, such as jewels 
have, but no longer sparkling and clear, as 
once they were. They lie and stare up wistfully 
through the green water, up at the sky which 
was once their home, up at the other stars of 
which they were once the shining brothers. 

And it was all the fault of the naughty 
little mermaid, who was not wise enough to 
know when she was happy. 


OCEAN WONDERS 


Far below the purple waves, 

In the hidden ocean caves, 
Floating softly to and fro, 
Wonder-creatures come and go. 

Monsters hideous and queer, 
Curious lovely shapes and dear 
Dwell beneath the silent tide, 
Where the rainbow fishes glide. 

Who can say what things may be 
In the mystic, magic sea ? 

In the depths so cool and green 
Which no man has ever seen ? 
And what wonders happen there 
Such as mortals may not share ? 

But a bit of pearly shell, 

Or of sea-weed green, may tell 
Just a hint of secret lore 
As we walk along the shore. 



THE BALLOON BOY 


9 





THE BALLOON BOY 

Carlo was the brown-skinned boy who stood 
on the corner of the Avenue every morning 
with a great bunch of red and blue balloons 
tied to a stick. Carlo used to wait smiling for 
the children to come up with their nurses and 
pick out the balloons with which they loved 
to play. The balloons bobbed and danced 
above Carlo’s head as if they wanted to fly 
away. Indeed, one of them once succeeded in 
escaping, just after it had been bought by 
little Johnny Parker. Johnny had forgotten 
to hold it tight, and Pouf! Off it sailed over 
the trees. No one ever knew what became of 



26 


THE BALLOON BOY 


that little red balloon, which soared up far be- 
yond the reach of Johnny’s wailing. But the 
other little balloons were always trying to 
follow after, and sometimes they pulled so 
hard at the strings that they seemed almost 
ready to lift Carlo off his feet and bear him 
with them over the tree-tops. 

Carlo was a happy boy, for he had come 
from a happy country where the people still 
believe in fairies, and he had not lived in this 
land long enough to catch the disease which 
makes one believe that there are “no such 
things as the Little People.” Carlo was a kind 
boy, and he loved the little children who 
bought balloons of him and paid their pennies 
into his rough, brown hand. Carlo had a little 
sister at home in the old country, and when 
he had earned money enough by selling red 
and blue balloons he meant to send for Nita 
to come and live with him, so they could have 
a little home of their own. 

One morning it rained hard, oh, very hard ! 
Carlo did not go out to the Avenue, for he 
knew that the children would all stay indoors 


THE BALLOON BOY 


27 


that day, playing in their nurseries with their 
house toys. But in the afternoon, after dinner- 
time, the rain cleared away and the sun came 
out, hot and bright and beautiful, so that the 
sidewalks were soon as dry as dry. Then Carlo 
took his bunch of balloons and trudged to the 
corner, where he always stood. For he knew 
that all the nurses and all the babies, tired of 
being in the house, would soon be hurrying 
out for an airing in the Park. And of course 
they would need balloons. 

Carlo took up his station as usual on the 
corner where the Avenue stops short before 
the high gates, and wishes it could go on into 
the Park. This was where the children looked 
to find him every day, and he had never yet 
disappointed them. 

It was just the hour when the big boys 
are let out of school. Carlo had forgotten 
this. He did not like big boys. Suddenly — 
with a rush and a whoop — a crowd of them 
came tearing around the corner from the next 
street. They raced up and down the Avenue, 
shouting and laughing and full of mischief, 


28 THE BALLOON BOY 

for they had been shut up all this rainy day 
and were glad to be out of doors once more. 
As they came running back down the Ave- 
nue, one of them spied Carlo standing on 
the corner. 

“ Hallo ! Balloons ! ” shouted the boy, and 
immediately the noisy crowd rushed upon 
Carlo and surrounded him. 

“ Give me a red one ! ” 

“ Hi ! Blue ’s my color ! ” 
a Pass me down a red one, quick, or I’ll 
cut the whole string ! ” But they offered him 
no money in exchange. Carlo held back, try- 
ing to defend his balloons from their snatch- 
ing fingers. Then one boy cried, — 

“ Ho ! Let ’s cut the whole string, anyway, 
and see them go ! ” And quick as a flash, be- 
fore Carlo had time to do anything, a sharp 
penknife had severed the string above the 
stick, and away went forty balloons, sailing 
over the trees merrily, glad to be free. 

The boys gave a yell and danced up and 
down. But some one cried, “Look out! 
Here ’s a policeman ! ” and off they scampered 


THE BALLOON BOY 


29 


in every direction, before Carlo fairly knew 
what they had done. Yes, there was a police- 
man, but he had not seen what had happened, 
and already he was turning the corner. Even 
if Carlo could catch up with him he could 
not speak enough English to tell the man his 
troubles. Besides, not even a policeman could 
bring back those flying balloons. 

Poor Carlo ! No customers for him this 
day. He looked down at the bare stick in his 
hand, and then up to where he could just see 
some tiny specks on the blue sky, far, far 
away. The balloons were seeking their little 
brother who escaped long before. Carlo’s eyes 
filled with tears, for he was not a very big 
boy, and this was a dreadful thing which had 
happened to him. Already the procession of 
babies was coming down the Avenue, eager to 
buy Carlo’s balloons. But he had nothing to 
sell them this afternoon. 

Slowly and sadly he turned away and slunk 
down a side street toward another entrance to 
the Park. But the children wondered what 
had become of their balloon boy, who was al- 


30 


THE BALLOON BOY 


ways waiting for them on the corner, smiling 
pleasantly. 

Carlo wandered into the Park and walked 
about the twisting paths, wondering what he 
should do. He had no money to buy more 
balloons. How could he start out afresh in 
business ? He had sent his last earnings back 
across the water to the little sister in the land 
where they still believed in fairies, and she 
had saved almost enough to bring her here to 
him. But now, what was he to do now ? How 
buy food and lodging, and especially how 
buy more balloons with which to pile up fu- 
ture pennies ? 

Carlo wandered about for a long time, think- 
ing and puzzling, until the shadows began 
to lengthen, and it was almost night. Then 
he went to a little arbor in the Park, far 
from the place where the nurses and children 
mostly gathered. It was a spot that he loved, 
for it was full of grape-vines, which reminded 
him of the beautiful home from which he 
had come, — the country where the faries still 
lived. He was very tired and hungry, and he 



the little 


MAN 









THE BALLOON BOY 


33 


curled up on a settee in the arbor and went 
to sleep. 

He must have slept a long time, for when 
he woke the Park was quite dark, save 
where the electric lights made queer patches 
of brightness among the leaves and on the 
grass and gravel walks. In the arbor itself 
hung a light which made the grape-vine with 
its half-ripened clusters look strange but very 
beautiful. 

Carlo awoke with a start, for he had certainly 
felt something touch his knee. Yes ! Carlo 
looked again, and rubbed his eyes. There at 
his knee stood a little man, — a little, thick 
man in a queer long gown, with a rope about 
his waist, — one of the very same Little Men 
of whom his mother had often told him in 
the land across the sea ! 

“ What is the matter, Carlo ? ” asked the 
Little Man, in Carlo’s own home language. 
And Carlo answered in the same soft tongue : 

“ The boys have cut my balloons away, and 
I have nothing left with which to earn my 
living, that I may send money to Nita.” 


34 THE BALLOON BOY 

“ That is too bad ! ” exclaimed the Little 
Man. “ What can we do about it? ” 

Carlo stared hard at him, for he had always 
wanted to see a Little Man. His hat was tall 
and had a broad brim, and on his feet were 
sandals. His brown gown clung tight about 
him, like the skin upon a russet apple, seem- 
ing ready to burst with the plumpness inside. 
His cheeks, too, seemed ready to burst with 
laughing, even when Carlo told him the story 
of the boys’ wicked deed. 

“ That is too bad ! ” he cried again, but not 
sadly. “ What can we do about it? ” 

He glanced thoughtfully around the arbor 
in which they were sitting. It was a grape 
arbor, as I have said, and already the grapes 
were beginning to turn red and purple in the 
autumn coolness, though some were still green. 

“ The bad boys will steal them,” said the 
Little Man to himself, looking at the grapes. 
“ They will not bring good to any one, only 
stomach-aches.” Carlo wondered what he 
could possibly mean. Still the Little Man 
stared around the arbor, nodding his head 


THE BALLOON BOY 35 

slowly up and down, as if making up his mind 
about something very important. At last he 
turned to Carlo and asked suddenly, — 

“ Do you know where I came from? ” 

“ No,” said Carlo. “ I have been wonder- 
ing. You do not seem to belong to this coun- 
try at all.” 

“ I don’t,” said the Little Man. “ They 
don’t even believe in me here, so they never, 
never see me — how could they ? The babies 
who play over there,” — and he twisted his 
thumb toward the fountain and the sand- 
heap, — “even if they were to come in here 
now, could not see me. For their stupid nurses 
have told them that I don’t exist. Perhaps there 
might be one or two who still believe ; and of 
them I should have to be very careful. For I 
don’t want to be discovered. But they do not 
often come here.” 

“ I come here often,” said Carlo. 

“ Of course,” chuckled the Little Man, 
“ naturally ! ” 

“ But how happens it that you are here?” 
asked Carlo, eagerly. 


36 


THE BALLOON BOY 


“ Why, I came with you, to be sure. I am 
the Little Man of your father’s house. And 
when you left the dear old country over the 
sea you brought me with you.” The Little 
Man sighed. Carlo sighed too. But quickly 
he remembered to be polite. “ It was very 
good of you to come,” he said. 

“ Not at all,” answered the Little Man. 
“ I had to follow. Some of them bring poi- 
son creatures in the fruit which they sell, — 
tarantulas and scorpions. Some of them bring 
measles, and the evil-eye, and other dread- 
ful things. But you brought me, and I have 
been watching over you ever since. I am 
glad you come here every day, so I can live 
in this very nice place. Now I am going to 
help you.” 

Carlo thanked him, but he seemed not to 
hear. Nimbly as a squirrel he was climbing 
up the vine which draped the arbor with its 
leaves and grapes. Presently down he came 
again, and in his hand he held a fine bunch of 
grapes, purple and red and green. 

“ It is not stealing,” he said, in a whisper, 


THE BALLOON BOY 


37 


“ for this bunch has stopped ripening ; I can 
tell by signs which a fairy knows. It would 
soon wither, and would not even attract the 
bad boys. So I will use it for my purposes. 
Now, please give me your stick.” 

Carlo handed him the shorn stick, wonder- 
ing. With a few deft knots the Little Man 
tied the bunch of grapes to the handle, where 
the balloons used to bob. 

“ What ! ” he cried, nodding delightedly, 
“ There you are ! Now of course you must go 
to sleep again. I cannot let you see how the 
last touches are done.” He tapped Carlo three 
times on the forehead. Immediately Carlo’s 
eyes began to close, his head nodded, and 
before he knew it he was lying on the bench 
in the arbor, snoring lustily and forgetting all 
his troubles. 

Then the Little Man must have done some- 
thing very strange and wonderful and marvel- 
ous ; though no one saw him, and so no one 
knows just what that something was. But 
when in the morning Carlo awoke with a start, 
a baby in a pink dress stood in the arbor hold- 


38 


THE BALLOON BOY 


ing out a little hand in which was a silver 
dime, and he was saying, — 

“ Please, Boy, give me a green balloon ! ” 
Carlo jumped up and reached for the stick, 
which was propped between the bars of the 
seat beside him. And what do you think? 
The bunch of purple and red and green grapes 
seemed to have grown and grown, and swelled 
and swelled, until each grape had turned into 
a beautiful big balloon of the same color ! And 
that is why on that particular day Carlo had 
some green balloons in his bunch, although the 
children had never seen any like them before. 
And he sold one to the pink baby, and others 
to the other babies who came crowding around 
when he went out upon the Avenue, until the 
green balloons were all gone. For of course 
the babies wanted the unusual kind first. But 
after that he sold off the ordinary blue and 
red ones, and went home with his pockets full 
of dimes, and with nothing more on the end 
of his stick than when the bad boys let loose 
his bunch of balloons. But now there were no 
tears in his eyes — no, indeed ! 


THE BALLOON BOY 


39 


Now I do not know just what happened 
next. But Carlo always looks smiling and 
happy about something. The children buy his 
balloons every day, and every night he carries 
home a pocketful of silver. Carlo is growing 
rich. And now little Nita has come across the 
sea to be with him. When the cold weather 
comes I daresay the Little Man will go to live 
in their house, as he did in their old home in 
the land where people still believe in fairies. 
But you may be sure that as long as he can he 
will stay in the pretty grape-vine arbor. If you 
are one of the wise children who believe in 
him, perhaps you will see him there yourself, 
some day. At any rate, whether you believe 
in the Little Man or not, if you go at the right 
time you will be sure to see the Balloon Boy, 
sitting on the bench and smiling happily at 
something, with the bunch of red and blue 
balloons bobbing over his head. And if you 
pay ten cents you may have a balloon all for 
your own, which will tug and tug and will 
try to get away, just as little Johnny Parker’s 
did. 


BALLOONS 


Where do they go, 

I want to know, 

The little balloons which fly, and fly, 

Over the trees and up so high 
Into the sky ? 

Do they sail as far as Heaven’s gate, 

Where chubby cherubs watch and wait, 

Who stretch out their hands with an eager cry 
As the little balloons come floating by ? 

Do the cherubs play with the pretty things, 
Flitting about on their baby wings, 

While the little balloons bob to and fro, 

Just as they did in the world below ? 

They never come back the tale to tell, 

So no one knows what each befell. 

But if they can stay 
In that Land for aye, 

Where the sun ever shines and the sky is blue, 
I do not blame them for longing to fly 
Over the trees and up so high ; 

And when mine goes I will not boo-hoo, — 
Will you ? 


THE GREEN CAP 







THE GREEN CAP 

Once upon a time in the far East, where 
people live upon rice and tea, a little old 
woman dwelt all alone in a tiny hut on the 
edge of the forest. The little old woman was 
very, very poor ; but she was a brave soul, and 
so long as there was a little tea in her little 
teapot, a little rice in her little rice bucket, 
and a little water in her well she would smile 
a little smile and say, “ Oh, I have enough, 
and that is all which any one needs in this 
world. I am doing very well indeed.” 

But there came an evil time for the poor 
little old woman. There was a drought in the 


44 


THE GREEN CAP 


land, and all the wells ran dry. There was a 
famine, and no more rice nor tea were to be 
had for love or money. One night the little 
old woman went about to get her evening 
meal and she was very, very hungry. First 
she went to draw a dipper of water from the 
well. But when she peered down into the 
well she saw that it was almost dry. 

“ Alack ! ” she cried, “ when I have used 
this last dipper of water there will be none 
left for to-morrow. After that I must go dry. 
And how long can I live so ? ” 

Slowly and sadly she went back to the house 
and took her little rice bucket down from the 
shelf on the wall. But when she opened it she 
saw only a few grains of rice scantily cover- 
ing the bottom of the bucket. 

“ Alack ! ” she cried, “ when I have taken 
out the handful for my supper there will be 
no more left for to-morrow. After that I must 
go hungry. And how long can I live so ? ” 
She shook her head mournfully and went to 
her little teapot, which hung before the fire. 
But when she took off the cover thereof she 


THE GREEN CAP 


45 


cried again, “ Alack and alas ! Now even my 
tea is gone, and whatever shall I do ? There 
is but a drop in the pot, and when I have 
eaten my supper there will be none left for 
the morrow. After that I must go thirsty. 
But so I cannot live. Day after to-morrow I 
shall die ! ” And the poor little old woman 
shed a tear which almost fell into the teapot to 
salt the last drop of tea which remained there. 

Now she sat down to her scanty supper and 
hesitated to take the first mouthful, for it 
would so soon be gone. She gave a sigh and 
a groan as she lifted the little teapot to pour 
out the last drop of tea, for the little old 
woman loved her tea best of all. 

Just at that moment there came a knock on 
the door, a low-down knock such as a wery 
little child might reach to give. 

“ Tap — tap ! ” 

“ Come in ! ” said the little old woman, and 
she set down the teapot carefully. 

The latch clicked, the door opened, and in 
came a queer little creature the size of a child 
and walking upright upon two legs ; but it 


46 


THE GREEN CAP 


was not a child. It was a funny little monkey, 
with a wee black face and a curled-up handy 
tail, and on its head it wore a tiny green cap. 

“ Ugh ! ” cried the little old woman, who 
did not like monkeys, “ Ugh, go away ! ” 

But the monkey skipped briskly across the 
floor to the fireplace, and stood there shivering 
and holding out its small hands to the blaze 
quite as a little child might have done. The 
old woman stared at it in surprise. “ Bless my 
stars, how ugly it is ! ” she said. “ But the 
poor thing seems cold. Let it stay and warm 
itself if it wishes.” 

At these words the monkey turned about 
and made a low courtesy to the little old 
woman. 

“ Bless my stars ! ” said she again, for she 
had never seen so remarkable an animal, even 
in the land where monkeys were common. 

Now the monkey had ceased to shiver, and 
it came skipping up to the table where the 
old woman sat, ready to eat her supper. 

“ Ugh ! Go away ! ” cried the little old 
woman. “ Go away, you ugly creature ! ” 


THE GREEN CAP 


47 


But the monkey rested its chin upon the 
board and looked wistfully at the supper. 
“ May I not share with you ? ” it seemed to 
say, though it spoke no word, and it put its 
little hands our towards the old woman, 
beggar-fashion. 

“ Bless my stars ! ” cried the old woman 
again, “ it has the way of a child. But what 
an ugly child ! Ugh ! I cannot bear to have 
it near me. Yet — it is hard even for a mon- 
key to be hungry.” She looked at her scanty 
dipper of water, at her little dish of rice, at 
her teapot with its drop of tea. 

“ I have but one dipper of water left, one 
handful of rice, one drop of tea,” she said 
ruefully. “ When these are gone I know not 
whence to-morrow’s food will come ; yet, little 
creature with the hands of a child, you shall 
share with me so long as I have a morsel. I 
cannot refuse those hands. But do not come 
too near, for I love not monkeys.” 

Now the monkey seemed to understand 
every word the old woman spoke, although it 
could not answer in words. It bowed grate- 


48 


THE GREEN CAP 


fully over its clasped hands as the old woman 
helped it to half the scanty meal, — half the 
dipper of water, half the rice, half a drop 
squeezed from the little teapot. The monkey 
ate hungrily, and when it had finished patted 
its little stomach and grinned happily at the 
old woman as if to say, “ That was very good !” 

“ I am glad you are satisfied,” said the old 
woman with a sigh ; “ and now will you be- 
gone ? There is nothing more in the house 
for guest or for host.” 

But the monkey laid its head to one side 
upon its little hands and closed its eyes, show- 
ing that it was fain of sleep. Then again it 
held out its hands, beseeching the old woman. 

“ Oho ! ” said she, “ you want to sleep here, 
too? Well-a-day! That ever I should have 
an ugly monkey napping in my hut ! But I 
cannot turn a poor creature out into the cold 
night. You may stay, but keep as far from 
me as maybe, at the other corner of the cot- 
tage. Come, now, let us sleep and try to forget 
that to-morrow must be a hungry day.” 

So they slept, the old woman on her hard 


THE GREEN CAP 


49 


little cot and the monkey curled up on the 
floor, which was no whit harder. And the 
old woman dreamed wonderful and beautiful 
dreams. 

When it was light she opened her eyes, and 
at first she thought she must still be dreaming, 
for she had forgotten the happenings of the 
last night. There was the monkey with its 
little green cap on one side frisking about the 
cottage, sweeping the hearth, tidying the cor- 
ners and setting things to rights. 

“ Bless my stars ! ” cried the little old wo- 
man. At these words the monkey turned, and 
with a grin beckoned towards the table, where 
dishes were already set out as if for a meal. 
Then the old woman remembered what had 
happened the evening before. But she remem- 
bered also the empty cupboard, and sighed 
wearily. 

“ Breakfast ! ” she grumbled ; “ it is little 
breakfast we shall have this day. Did we not 
share yestereven the last dipper of water, the 
last handful of rice, the last drop of tea? 
There will scarcely be any breakfast for me 


50 


THE GREEN CAP 


this day, and you, who are strong and frisky, 
had best seek one elsewhere, leaving me to 
die.” 

But the monkey shook its head, grinning 
knowingly, and still beckoned to the table. It 
lifted the dipper and showed how it was still 
full of water. It lifted the cover from the 
rice dish, and lo ! there was a mess of steam- 
ing white rice. It shook the little teapot, and 
a drop trickled from the spout. 

“ Bless my stars ! ” cried the little old wo- 
man, “ last night my eyes must have cheated 
me. I certainly thought there was not another 
mouthful in the hut. Well, here is indeed a 
goodly meal,” and she sat down to the table. 
The monkey looked on wistfully, but did not 
venture near. Presently the old woman looked 
up. 

" What ! ” she cried, “ shall you not share, 
little guest, you who so cleverly prepared my 
breakfast ? Did I not say that you should 
share so long as I had a morsel upon the 
board? Come, then, and eat.” 

The monkey grinned happily and drew to 


THE GREEN CAP 


51 


the table. The scanty meal was sufficient for 
them both. When they had finished, the old 
woman nodded her head at the monkey and 
said, — 

“Even a morsel tastes better when one 
shares it with company. But little I thought 
that a monkey would prove so pleasant a 
guest.” 

At these words the monkey squirmed with 
happiness and frisked about the cottage like a 
mad thing. After that it went on with the 
household duties, quite like a handy little maid. 
But when it had finished these it skipped out 
of the door and disappeared into the forest. 

“ Now it is gone forever,” said the old wo- 
man with a little sigh, “and I shall be left 
alone to die of hunger and cold. For even 
my store of firewood is gone, and I have not 
strength to go to the forest for more.” And 
she sat down and cried bitterly, for the poor 
old woman’s courage was quite gone. 

The daylight dimmed and the night came 
on, and the old woman sat rocking herself to 
and fro, trying to forget how hungry she was. 


52 


THE GREEN CAP 


But presently the door burst open and in came 
the monkey, staggering with arms full of fagots 
for the fire. It made a bright blaze on the 
hearth and then came timidly up to the old 
woman and laid a hand upon her knee. This 
time the old woman did not shrink or cry out, 
a Ugh ! Go away ! ” for she seemed no longer 
to hate monkeys as once she had done. She 
looked up with half a smile and said : 

“ Ah, you have come back, little guest ! I 
thought you had deserted me. I know you 
think it is supper time ; but nay, there will be 
no supper to-night. There is naught in the 
house for us to eat, or I would gladly share 
it with so willing a helper.” 

But the monkey shook its head and drew 
the old woman gently by the skirts towards the 
door. 

“ There is no use in going to the well,” said 
the old woman ; “it is quite dry.” But the 
monkey continued to pull her dress, and at last 
the old woman rose, shaking her head because 
she knew that the quest was useless. The two 
went out to the well, and the monkey let down 


THE GREEN CAP 


53 


the bucket. When it came up the old woman 
thrust in the dipper, and lo ! she brought it 
out full once more with clear, cool, sparkling 
water. 

“ Bless my stars ! ” she cried in astonish- 
ment, “ there is witchcraft here,” and she 
looked at the monkey suspiciously. But the 
little creature only grinned. 

Once more it pulled at her skirts, as though 
it would lead her back to the house. Wonder- 
ing, the old woman followed, dipper in hand. 
The monkey led her straight to where the rice 
bucket stood on the shelf. The old woman 
shook her head hopelessly as she took down 
the bucket, because she knew that it was as 
empty as a last year’s bird’s nest. But when 
she drew off the cover she nearly dropped it 
with surprise. There was still a handful of 
rice in the bottom of the bucket. 

“ Bless my stars ! ” cried the old woman, 
and she looked again at the monkey. But the 
monkey only grinned and pointed towards the 
teapot. 

“ That at least I know to be empty,” said 


54 


THE GREEN CAP 


the old woman positively, “ for I squeezed out 
the last drop with my own hand.” But what 
was her amazement when she tilted the spout 
and out came an amber drop of comfort. 

“ Bless my stars ! ” again cried the old 
woman. “ Here is really enough for another 
meal. Witchcraft or no, you have certainly 
brought me good luck, little guest, and though 
we may die of hunger to-morrow we should 
greatly rejoice now, for we thought to be dead, 
even this same day.” 

So that night passed, and another and still 
others. Every morning, as at first, the monkey 
prepared breakfast for the little old woman 
ere she was awake. And still there remained 
a dipperful of water in the well, a handful of 
rice in the bucket, and a drop of tea in the 
teapot. Every night the old woman found 
the same for their supper. 

She was growing very fond of this queer 
little creature who helped her so heartily, and 
she wondered how she could ever have disliked 
monkey-folk. She even forgot that she had 
once thought her guest ugly, for the small face 





THE OLD WOMAN IS SURPRISED 







THE GREEN CAP 


57 


seemed, indeed, to have changed and to have 
become more human. The old woman had 
made for the monkey a pretty dress of green 
to match the green cap which her guest ever 
wore upon its head. The long tail which once 
she had used as an extra strong hand had 
shrunk away and disappeared beneath the 
pretty dress ; perhaps it was gone altogether 
— for the monkey was certainly changing in 
many ways, though the poor old woman was 
too weak-eyed to see how greatly this was so. 

Now the weeks passed, and the months 
passed, and it was exactly a year and a day 
from the time when the monkey had first ap- 
peared. On that morning the old woman woke 
up and saw as usual the little green figure 
flitting about the cottage, making things neat 
and tidy, and preparing the tiny breakfast 
which was always the same, — scanty and 
simple, but sufficient for the two, with kind- 
ness and good feeling to eke it out. This 
morning, when the old woman was ready to 
get up, the busy little creature came skip- 
ping up to the cot. And as it stood looking 


58 


THE GREEN CAP 


down, smiling kindly, the old woman sud- 
denly blinked and rubbed her eyes. 

“ Bless my stars ! ” she cried. “ How big 
you are ! How pretty you have grown ! What ! 
Who is this? You are not my little monkey, 
you are a lovely girl smiling at me.” 

“ Good morning, Mother,” said a sweet voice. 
“ I am your little guest. I am the same poor 
creature whom you took in out of kindness, 
and whom you have allowed to dwell with 
you this long year, sharing your scanty store. 
I owe you more than words can say.” 

“ Words ! ” cried the old woman, “ and how 
long since a monkey could use words ? ” She 
sat staring blankly. 

“ You see I am really the same,” said the 
pretty girl. “ I still wear the green dress which 
you made for me and the green cap which 
I had upon my head when I came to you. In 
that green cap lies my secret. I am a Fairy, 
Mother.” 

Then she told the old woman a strange 
story, — how because she was naughty the 
Fairy Queen had punished her by giving her 


THE GREEN CAP 


59 


that ugly monkey-shape, which she must wear 
for a year and a day. But at the end of that 
time she could take her own shape and go 
back to Fairyland. And now the time had 
come. 

“But you have been so kind to me, dear 
Mother, that I may give you one wish before 
I go back to my beautiful home, ,, said the 
Fairy maiden. 

Then the old woman burst into tears and 
flung her arms around the neck of her little 
guest. “Oh, do not leave me, kind Fairy 
child ! ” she said. “ I love you very dearly, and 
how shall I live without you? I loved you 
when I thought you were only a little monkey, 
but now I love you a thousand times more.” 

Gently the Fairy kissed her and said, “Now 
hear what the gift is that I may give you. I 
may give you one wish of three, and you shall 
choose between them. You shared your sim- 
ple food with a poor little animal-guest. Now 
for the first wish : W ould you live always on 
princely fare ? If you so choose you may have 
more than you need to eat. You may have meats 


60 THE GREEN CAP 

and fruit, fine wheaten bread and choice sweets, 
such as are set upon palace tables. You may 
have everything that a dainty palate could 
desire, and every day a different feast of good- 
ies. This you may choose, if you so will. Or, 
if you think the second choice a better one, 
you may become young again as I am now, 
for I am a picture of your lost youth which 
you have forgotten. You may have health 
and strength, and appetite to enjoy life, and 
the hearty meals which you will be able to 
earn. That is a goodly gift, is it not ? ” 

The old woman nodded, but still her eyes 
were unsatisfied. 

“ Then there is the third choice,” said the 
Fairy, and her voice was very soft. “ But 
that one it seems selfish for me to name, be- 
cause it is a wish for my happiness.” 

“ What is the third wish ? ” asked the old 
woman eagerly. 

“You may wish, if you choose — and the 
wish will be granted by the Fairy Queen — 
that all may remain as it now is ; you will be 
what you are, a dear old woman living still in 


THE GREEN CAP 


61 


this little hut, with your little well in which 
there will ever be one dipperful of water, no 
more ; with your little bucket in which there 
will ever be one handful of rice, no more; 
with your little teapot in which there will ever 
be one drop of tea, no more. It is scanty fare 
for one, Mother ; yet withal, if you would have 
one to share it, I will do so still, as I have 
done so long. I will become your child — no 
longer a Fairy-child, but your little human 
girl-child, such as I seem now. I will live 
with you always, love you and take care of 
you always and share your scanty portion. ,, 

The old woman gave a cry of joy. “ But 
do you wish it ? ” she said. “ Would you not 
rather go back to your beautiful Fairyland, 
where you can be happy and care-free al- 
ways?” 

u Nay, dear Mother,” said the Fairy ; “ if 
the choice were mine I would rather remain 
here with you than anywhere in the whole 
wide world, for I have been very happy here 
and I have learned many things. I do not 
want to go back to Fairyland to be an idle, 


62 


THE GREEN CAP 


careless, selfish Fairy. I would rather be a 
human child and share my mother’s joys and 
sorrows. Dear Mother, will you have it so ? ” 

“Yes, I will have it so!” cried the old 
woman joyfully. 

“Think,” said the Fairy, lifting a warning 
finger, “think of the fine feasts and the 
dainties you might have. Think of the youth 
and strength. Would you give up all this for 
only me — who must share half the refresh- 
ment from your well, your bucket, and your 
teapot?” 

“That is enough,” said the old woman. 
“What do we need more? We can still 
offer a sup to any poor stranger who may 
come as you came to my door. Oh, dear 
child, if you will stay with me, that is all I 
ask!” 

“Well, then, let us sit down and have 
breakfast,” said the dear little girl, tossing 
her green cap into the fire. “Now I am a 
Fairy no longer, but your very own little 
girl-child. And here is a dipper of water — 
the only one left in the well. Here is a dish 


THE GREEN CAP 63 

of rice — I used the last handful from the 
bucket. Here is just a tiny drop of tea in the 
teapot. Oh, Mother, I am so glad ! ” 

So they sat down to their frugal meal, and 
they laughed, and they laughed, and they 
laughed, they were so happy. 


CHILD OR FAIRY 


’T is good to be a Fairy-thing, 

And flit about on gauzy wing ; 

To sleep in cradles made of flowers, 
Or play through all the joyous hours. 
For Fairies have no grief nor care, 
Happy they are, and always fair, — 
I suppose. 

And yet ’t is better far to be 
A little human child like me, 

With lessons hard and tasks to do, 
And sometimes little troubles, too. 
For I have Mother’s tender kiss, 

And nothing is so good as this, — 
Every one knows ! 


KARL AND THE DRYAD 


















KARL AND THE DRYAD 

There was once a lad named Karl who 
lived with his father and mother in a little 
village of the Flat Land. Karl was a big 
fellow, tall and yellow-haired. But all his 
strength was in his long, lean body. There 
was none in his poor head. Karl was the vil- 
lage simpleton. 

Poor Karl ! His life was a sorry one. He 
was despised and jeered at by the whole vil- 
lage. The children followed and tormented 
him at every chance, because he could not 
learn at school ; the grown folk were little 
kinder, but nudged one another and made 


68 KARL AND THE DRYAD 

jokes about him when he came to the mar- 
ket-place. Even the cur-dogs followed and 
barked at him, but they knew no better. They 
were cruel folk, those dwellers in the Flat 
Land. 

Karl’s own parents were the unkindest of 
all. They did not love their son nor pity his 
wretchedness, but were ashamed because he 
was so simple. They were angry, too, because 
in their poverty he could not help them earn 
a living. For there seemed little indeed that 
poor Karl could learn to do, — he was so very 
simple. His parents were continually telling 
him how useless he was in this workaday world. 

“ Oh, you stupid fellow! ” they would some- 
times say, driving him out of the house with 
blows of broom or stick. “ Oh, you great 
good-for-nothing, sitting here and eating our 
bread without doing aught to pay for it ! 
Were ever parents troubled with so worthless a 
son ? Other folk have bright boys and girls 
who will grow up to do some good in the 
world and be a credit to their parents. But 
you will always be a big, overgrown baby for 


KARL AND THE DRYAD 69 

us to take care of. Bah ! Karl, we are tired of 
seeing you about ! ” 

With the tears streaming down his face 
poor Karl would shuffle out of the mean little 
cottage where they lived, the most unhappy 
boy in the whole wide world. There was one 
place whither Karl loved to go at such times, 
the only place where he was sure of finding 
rest and quiet and a friend. In a corner of 
the village was a little wood, — a rare sight in 
the Flat Land, where trees grew but sparsely. 

Few other persons came here, for the folk 
of the country cared little about rest or quiet, 
and nothing at all for the beauty of nature. 
They were quite satisfied with the look of 
their clean-shaven country, their smooth lawns 
and geometrical canals, their straight, shade- 
less roads, curbed neatly on either hand. It 
had never occurred to them to plant trees for 
beauty and shade, and for the other good 
things which trees offer. The little wood had 
grown quite by accident, and no one cared 
anything about it. But Karl loved the lonely, 
pretty place, and especially the great oak 


70 


KARL AND THE DRYAD 


which grew in the midst thereof, the only 
oak in the whole Flat Land. It was so big, 
so sturdy, and yet withal so gentle when it 
stretched its great limbs protectingly over his 
wretchedness, giving the comfort of its shade 
and coolness to refresh him in his troubles. 
It w^as Karl’s only friend. 

A hot, sultry day came upon the Flat Land, 
and it seemed to be Karl’s evil day. In the 
morning a rout of children and dogs chased 
him through the village, pelting him with bad 
eggs and fruit, and with stones, too. They 
chased him until the school bell rang, when 
he escaped ; for Karl did not go to school, — 
he was too simple. When he returned home, 
breathless, bruised, and weary, scarcely able to 
speak from fright and exhaustion, his father 
beat him because he could not tell where he 
had been all the morning. Poor Karl ! There 
was no part of the whole town where he had 
not been in that dreadful chase. But he had 
not the words to explain this to his parents; 
so his cruel father punished him, and his 
mother drove him out without his dinner. 


KARL AND THE DRYAD 71 

More wretched than ever before, Karl fled 
to his refuge, the little wood, and flung him- 
self on the greensward beneath the giant oak 
tree. He buried his face in the cool, soft moss, 
and cried as though his heart would break. 

“ Poor fool ! Poor fool ! ” he wailed. “ Poor 
Karl, good for nothing ! ” 

While he lay thus, sobbing aloud and filling 
the cups of the moss with his tears, he heard 
a heavy tread approaching. Glancing up fear- 
fully, — for he had no hope to meet a friendly 
face, since none in all the world had ever 
smiled upon him, — he saw a Farmer approach- 
ing with a great axe over his shoulder. 

“ Hullo, there ! ” cried the Farmer when he 
spied Karl under the tree. “ You Simpleton, 
better get up. I am going to cut down that 
tree which grows over your head.” 

“ Cut down my tree ! ” gasped Karl, and he 
began to tremble. Was he to lose his only 
friend ? 

“ Your tree ! ” jeered the Farmer. “ Poor 
Fool, I never knew that you owned anything, 
even your senses. The tree is mine, with the 


72 KARL AND THE DRYAD 

land on which it grows and acres on every 
hand. I am going to cut down the tree to 
make firewood for next winter. That is all 
trees are good for.” 

“ 0h ? do not do that ! ” begged Karl, spread- 
ing out his arms as if to protect the tree. “ I 
will not let you cut it down ! ” 

“ Ho ho ! ” laughed the Farmer. “ How will 
you prevent it, Simpleton ? And what is the 
tree to you, anyway ? ” 

“ The only big tree there is anywhere ! ” 
sobbed Karl. “ The only shade ; the only safe, 
quiet, cool, kind place in the whole world ! 0 
Man, do not cut down the tree ! You cannot 
make another.” 

The Farmer had lifted his axe to strike, but 
now he paused and rested it on the ground. 
Karl’s last words had struck him with a new 
thought. “ The Fool speaks a word of wis- 
dom,” he growled to himself. “It is easier to 
cut down a tree like this than to make another. 
The acorn which I might plant to-day would 
become no such tree in my lifetime — nor in 
that of my son, or my grandson, or my great- 



KARL AND THE DRYAD 



KARL AND THE DRYAD 75 

grandson, for that matter. Fool, I will think 
it over (the more fool I, ’t is likely). I will 
spare your tree — ha ha ! — for a time. I can 
cut it down whenever I like. But as you say, 
I cannot soon grow another. My folly bids 
yours good-day, Fool.” 

Shouldering his axe, the Farmer trudged 
half sulkily away. Then Karl fell to sobbing 
again, but this time with joy that his tree was 
spared. He flung his arm around the great 
trunk and pressed his lips against the rough 
bark, kissing it again and again. Suddenly 
he heard a sharp crack in the oak ; another 
and another, as if the bark were being ripped 
away. He started up in a fright and stood 
back from the tree, wondering what was hap- 
pening to his old friend. 

Presently a long vertical slit appeared in 
the side of the tree and grew gradually wider 
and wider. A door was opening in the trunk ! 
Karl stood gazing spell-bound at this amaz- 
ing sight, when out from the dark entrance 
stepped a figure most wonderful to see. It 
was a lovely maiden, dressed all in brown, — 


76 KARL AND THE DRYAD 

the color of the tree-bark. About her head 
was twined a wreath of green oak leaves and 
acorns, and in her hand she carried a wand, 
made from a branch of the tree. She was 
a Dryad, the spirit whose home was the old 
oak tree; but Karl was too simple to know 
that. He merely stood staring at the beau- 
tiful stranger, too much surprised even to 
close his poor foolish mouth, which hung wide 
open. 

The Dryad smiled sweetly at the lad and 
said, “ Thanks, kind friend, for saving my tree. 
I heard your wise words to the cruel Farmer, 
and brave you were to speak them. Now what 
can I do to make you happy, as we Dryads 
love to make happy him who does kindness 
to our sheltering trees ? ” 

Poor Karl did not understand how he had 
saved the tree. He only knew that for some 
reason the cruel Farmer had changed his mind. 
As little did he understand why the Dryad 
thanked him. But he heard the kindness of 
her voice, and knew she offered aid. 

“ Oh, can you help me, beautiful Stranger? ” 


KARL AND THE DRYAD 77 

he cried, clasping his hands eagerly and look- 
ing at her with tears in his eyes. 

“ Indeed, I will help you all I can, kind 
lad,” said the Dryad, waving her wand and 
taking a step towards him. “ Tell me about 
your trouble.” 

Then Karl told the Dryad all the sorrow of 
his life, — how he was foolish and of no use, 
a burden to his parents and a disgrace to the 
town ; how all the village, even the little chil- 
dren and the cur-dogs, hated and despised 
him ; how unhappy and lonesome he was. 

u 0 fair Stranger,” said Karl as he finished 
the sad little tale, “ I am only a poor simple- 
ton, and I can never do anything good or great. 
But if you could only teach me how to do 
some little thing that will be of use to the 
world, so that I shall not always be hated and 
despised even by the little children and dogs 
of the village, I should be so very happy ! 
Will you do this, dear Tree-Maiden ? ” 

The Dryad looked at him pityingly, and the 
tears stood in her own brown eyes when she 
heard his wish. “ Poor boy,” she said, and 


78 KARL AND THE DRYAD 

her voice was very sweet, “ you ask nothing 
for yourself, neither riches nor happiness nor 
even wisdom. You ask only to be taught how 
your simplicity may be of some use to the 
world which has treated you so unkindly. 
Some would call it a foolish wish. But I say, 
0 Karl, that it is not foolishness. Twice to- 
day you have spoken wisely, lad.” 

The Dryad looked up into the tree under 
which they stood ; she looked down upon the 
ground ; then she glanced around and about, 
thinking hard for Karl’s sake. And at last 
she spoke again. 

“ Remember the words which you spoke to- 
day when the Farmer raised his axe. You told 
him that he could not make another such tree ; 
and those words saved this great oak. You 
were right, Karl. And he was right when he 
agreed that the acorn which he might plant 
to-day would not become like this king of 
trees in his lifetime, nor in that of his son, or 
his grandson, or his great-grandson. Yet the 
acorn which you plant will grow, and its shade, 
its beauty, its greenness will one day equal 


KARL AND THE DRYAD 79 

this. Though you may never see it, the world 
will be better for your deed, and future gen- 
erations will bless you for it. This shall be 
your task, Karl, to fare forth upon a lifelong 
pilgrimage and plant as you go the blessed 
trees which will shelter the many people who 
are to come after you. Thus the Flat Land 
will become famous for all time as the place 
of happy wayfaring.” 

Now poor Karl understood not one word of 
all this which the Dryad had so prettily spoken, 
save that he was to go away. But this thought 
he seized eagerly. 

“ I am to go away ! ” he cried. “ When, 
dear Maiden, and where ? ” 

“ You must go to-night,” answered the 
Dryad, waving her wand. “See, already the 
shadows are falling. You must not be missed 
nor sought for this night. You must take with 
you only this, a sack of acorns upon your 
shoulders. See where they lie all about us 
under the tree, ready for you to gather ! And 
look ! I will take this green mantle which I 
wear and make of it a sack to hold your bur- 


80 KARL AND THE DRYAD 

den. Take it, Karl, and fill it thus with the 
gift of your old friend, the oak.” 

Karl did as she showed him, and presently 
he had the long, soft sack filled with brown 
acorns. Then the Dryad gave him a lesson in 
planting. She showed him how to dig a little 
hole for each acorn and cover it with mould ; 
and though Karl was so simple he learned the 
lesson readily, for he had a loving teacher. 
Then the Dryad told him how he must walk a 
hundred paces from the planting of one acorn 
before he turned earth to cover the next. 

“ Now, Karl, you shall go forth,” she said, 
“ from village to village wherever your thought 
may lead, — for it does not matter, — plant- 
ing acorns on either side of the way. And if 
any one asks you why you do this, do you tell 
him the story of this day ; and I warrant you 
will need no other pence to pay for food or a 
bed whenever you need them. Do not forget 
this story, Karl. Do not forget.” 

“I am a simpleton,” said Karl humbly, 
u yet I shall never forget this day’s happen- 
ings, nor your words to me. But shall I in- 


KARL AND THE DRYAD 81 

deed be doing something for the world’s good ? 
I do not see how that can be.” 

“ Trust me, Karl,” said the Dryad kindly. 
“ Indeed and indeed, you will be doing much, 
I promise you, — more than many men who 
call themselves wise. But see, already the 
night is falling. It is time that you were start- 
ing upon your journey.” 

Thereupon she helped him to place the stout 
sack of acorns upon his shoulders, and with a 
wave of the wand started him forth upon his 
pilgrimage. Smiling with joy to think that at 
last he was about to be of some use in the 
world, Karl bent his long frame under the 
heavy burden, and trudged out of the little 
wood. When he reached the highroad, he 
turned to wave a last farewell to the Dryad. 
But already she had retreated into her tree- 
cell, closing the door behind her so tightly 
that one would never know where it opened. 
It was to his friend the great oak, alone, that 
Karl bade his last good-by. 

Thus Karl began his pilgrimage with the 
green sack of acorns on his back, and with 


82 KARL AND THE DRYAD 

neither penny nor crust in his pocket. He be- 
gan his pilgrimage at dusk, when every one 
was indoors at the evening meal ; so no one 
thought of him, or spied his doings. With 
great glee the simple fellow planted his first 
acorn in the heart of the village, just within 
sight of the parent oak. So long as light 
lasted he trudged on with a happier heart than 
he had ever known. He was being of some 
use to the world ! He did not understand 
how, but he believed the gentle Dryad’s pro- 
mise. At every hundred paces he planted an 
acorn, and he was so busy counting his steps 
between whiles that he forgot all his troubles. 
And this, too, the wise Dryad had foreseen. 

At last, when the way had grown so dim 
that Karl could barely see to dig earth for the 
last planting, a wayfarer accosted him. 

“ What ho, Stranger ! What are you doing 
there ? ” cried this man. 

“ I am planting an acorn,” said Karl simply. 

“ Ho ho ! what an idea ! ” cried the fellow 
with a guffaw. “ You ’ll never live to enjoy 
the oak that grows from that acorn. Why do 


KARL AND THE DRYAD 83 

you take so much trouble for nothing, my 
funny fellow ? ” 

Then Karl told him the whole story, as 
the Dryad had bade him do. And when he 
paused at the end, the man was silent for a 
little time. 

“ Poor fellow ! ” he said at last. “ Simple, 
simple ! What a story made of fool’s fancies ! 
An oak tree — a maiden coming out of it — 
acorns to be planted along the road for shade 
and rest! Yet — there is something in that 
last thought. It might not be a bad thing to 
have trees along our highways, though I never 
before heard of such a thing. Whew ! I know 
I should have been glad to-day for the shade 
of a tree when I ate my luncheon in the burn- 
ing sun. — Have you supped? Where do you 
lodge to-night, lad ? ” 

Karl dropped his foolish mouth and said 
blankly that he did not know. In truth, he 
had never thought of the matter until that 
minute. But the stranger clapped him on the 
shoulder and said, — 

“ Come home with me and I will give you 


84 KARL AND THE DRYAD 

a bed and a sup. Your wonderful story de- 
serves so much reward.” 

So Karl fared well that night, and on the 
morrow once more started happily forth upon 
his mission. Thus indeed he fared wherever 
he went. At first folk laughed at the story 
which he told. But when they came to think 
it over, they found it not so ridiculous. Look- 
ing at the poor fool’s eager face and watch- 
ing his tireless labor for the good of people 
whom he would never see, their hearts smote 
them for their own selfishness, and they were 
ashamed. They treated him well. Karl never 
lacked for a meal or a bed ; the telling of his 
story always earned either. Yet he never ex- 
pected this reward, but was continually won- 
dering why folk were so good to him. He 
thanked them humbly for their charity, and 
when he was refreshed, went forth again upon 
his pilgrimage with no care for the morrow or 
for the next meal. Karl was indeed a simple- 
ton. 

The days and the weeks and the years went 
by, and Karl still wandered, planting the 


KARL AND THE DRYAD 85 

acorns as he went. He never retraced his 
steps, but went on and on, down new roads, 
new avenues, new boulevards, into new coun- 
tries. He never was curious to see how his 
work was faring. He was too simple to think 
of that. He had been told what he must do 
in order to be useful in the world ; that was 
enough. The Power that watches over little 
acorns and great oaks, over simpletons and 
wise men, would take care of the work which 
Karl had begun. 

Mile after mile he traversed, country after 
country he visited ; the years passed over his 
head, silvering his hair and bending still more 
his tall frame. As Karl grew older the burden 
on his shoulders became lighter to carry ; but 
very gradually. The sack made from the 
Dryad’s mantle must have had magic woven 
in its tissue. For that first stock of acorns 
from the old oak tree lasted throughout the 
entire pilgrimage, during the whole of Karl’s 
life, so that he had no need to return to the 
unfriendly village for a fresh supply. On and 
on he went, and behind him for miles and 


86 KARL AND THE DRYAD 

miles through the countries and the years 
stretched rows of little oak saplings, of various 
heights and sizes, and full of promise, — the 
beginning of a wonderful arched avenue. For 
after he had passed out of sight, the people of 
every village, remembering his strange words 
and his wild story, began to think of him as 
a holy man, and to look upon the acorns 
which he had planted as holy things. So the 
sprouts were cherished carefully and more 
carefully as the years went by. 

Now at last, after many years, Karl was 
grown old and feeble, and the acorns were few 
in the bottom of the Dryad’s green sack ; and 
he knew that his pilgrimage was almost over. 
He was many, many miles from home, and 
for the first time he thought of returning, 
longing for the Tree, his friend. He was now 
bowed and white-haired. A snowy beard de- 
scended to his waist ; his garments were in rags 
and his shoes were mere strips of leather bound 
around his bare feet. But he was very happy, 
for he knew his work was done. 

In a little village of the far South country 


KARL AND THE DRYAD 


87 


he planted the last acorn, and sank upon the 
spot, unable to go any farther. The towns- 
folk gathered around him, saying, “ Who is 
this ? What holy man is this ? ” For his face 
was indeed that of a blessed saint. Then once 
more, for the last time, he told his story. He 
told it in a faint and faltering voice, and it 
was so sad, so sweet, that every one wept to 
hear it, and marveled greatly, saying, — 

“ Surely, he is indeed a holy man ! See, 
the green wonder-sack is empty. This is the 
end of his pilgrimage. Our village is blest and 
shall be famous as the end of his pilgrimage. 
We will set up a shrine in his honor where 
the last acorn is planted. But first we must 
take him home.” 

“ Yes, take me home ! ” said Karl, who 
understood only this word of all the praise 
they gave him. 

They laid him on the green mantle and 
started gently to carry him where he would 
be. He could not tell them the name of the 
place, but they traced the way by the acorns 
which he had planted and which had sprung 


88 KARL AND THE DRYAD 

up in his honor. As they went from village 
to village, folk came out who remembered the 
holy pilgrim who had passed erewhile, telling 
his quaint story ; and they claimed a share in 
bearing the blessed burden. So that poor Karl 
had a continually growing company of people 
ministering to his wants and doing him the 
kindnesses of love. But he did not know why, 
thinking only that the world was grown won- 
drously kind since the days of his boyhood. 
As they passed on, the wonder grew at the 
length of his pilgrimage and the extent of 
Karl’s work. For the journey was not a 
matter of days but of months, even at the 
steady pace they held. And as they measured 
back mile after mile, the planting of Karl be- 
came still more wonderful to see. From little 
sprouts the acorns had now grown tiny tree- 
lets. Further on the saplings were waist-high, 
shoulder high, above the heads of the tallest. 
In lands where he had passed years before grew 
rows of tall, beautiful oaks on either side of 
the road. But it was when the goodly com- 
pany entered at last the Flat Land itself that 


KARL AND THE DRYAD 89 

they saw the trees become so sturdy and so 
broad that already it was a fair avenue down 
which Karl was borne. It was many, many 
years since he had passed that way. He him- 
self was forgotten, but there remained the 
tradition of a simple lad who had once gone 
by, planting the blessed oaks which were now 
the pride of the land. And his own country- 
men joined the company in greater numbers 
than any heretofore. For now the wisdom 
of the planting began to be seen. The trees 
were so tall and so broad-limbed that already 
they cast a grateful shade, under which the 
pilgrims rested at every stage. Men, women, 
and children, even the animals whom they 
passed, taking shelter from the summer heat 
under these same trees, blessed the wisdom 
which had done this thing. But Karl knew 
nothing of all this. He only knew that he 
was going home; and he slept, being very 
weary. 

At last they came to the village where Karl 
was born ; but he did not know it for such, he 
was so simple. Nor did the people who flocked 


90 KARL AND THE DRYAD 

to praise him remember Karl, he was so 
changed. They only knew him for the un- 
named benefactor and friend who had made 
their town the fairest and most famous in the 
whole land. Among them were the very chil- 
dren, now grown old like him, who had teased 
and tormented him that woeful day. But now 
they crowded around the green litter as it was 
borne along, seeking to kiss the hand of the 
wise man who had given them shade and shelter 
on their weary way to and from the market. 
The company of pilgrims bore Karl past and 
under the trees which had sprung up to mark 
his passing from the town. They came to the 
last tree, the first which Karl had planted in 
the heart of the village on that first day, and 
here they paused, troubled. For they said, — 

“ The avenue ends here. Whither shall we 
now carry the holy man, and what would he 
have us do ? For he has spoken no word since 
we began the journey.” 

But under this last tree Karl opened his 
eyes, and raising himself on his litter stretched 
out his arms to the East. Gazing whither he 


KARL AND THE DRYAD 91 

pointed, the company saw a little wood, and 
rising out of it a single giant oak, greater 
than all the others which Karl had planted, — 
greater than any which those men had seen. 

“ There, there ! ” cried Karl, with joy in his 
voice. “ Take me there ! Home, home ! ” 

Wondering, they bore him to the great oak 
and laid him on the greensward beneath the 
tree. Then a marvelous thing happened. In 
the sight of all the people a little door opened 
in the side of the oak, and out stepped a maiden 
dressed all in brown, with a girdle of green 
and with a crown of oak-leaves on her head. 
She bore a branch of the tree in her hand, 
which she waved gently as she stepped towards 
Karl. 

“ Welcome home ! ” she cried sweetly, smil- 
ing upon him. “ Welcome home, dear friend. 
You have had your task and it is ended. Your 
wish is fulfilled. You have been of great use 
to the world, and it will bless your name more 
and more as the years go by. Come, now, and 
rest.” Tenderly she took him by the hand, 
aiding him to rise. He lifted himself, feebly 


92 KARL AND THE DRYAD 

at first, but seeming to gain strength from her 
touch. The Dryad wrapped her green mantle 
around his shoulders, leading him towards the 
oak. And lo ! When they reached the little 
door, he turned and smiled at the company, 
Waving his hand in a last farewell, but speak- 
ing no word. And they looked at him amazed, 
such a change seemed to have passed over him ; 
but they could not say how, save that the 
weight of years, the weariness, the sorrow, the 
yearning, seemed to have slipped away. He 
smiled at them, and it was not the smile of a 
simpleton, but of one who knew the meaning 
of strange things. Then the Dryad drew him 
gently after her and they passed in through 
the little door, into the heart of the great oak 
tree. Noiselessly it closed behind them, leav- 
ing not a crack to show where it had been. 
And this was the last ever seen of Karl and 
the Dryad. 

But the people were left staring at one 
another, as folk do when they have seen some- 
thing that they cannot understand. 


TREES 


However little I may be, 

At least I too can plant a tree. 

And some day it will grow so high 
That it can whisper to the sky, 

And spread its leafy branches wide 
To make a shade on every side. 

Then on a sultry summer day, 

The people resting there will say, — 

“ Oh, good and wise and great was he 
Who thought to plant this blessed tree ! ” 











THE INDIAN FAIRY 








THE INDIAN FAIRY 

i 

“ Katie has been complaining again of the 
queer noises in the cellar,” said Rob’s mother, 
as she passed the coffee cup to her husband 
across the breakfast table. 

“It must be rats,” said Rob’s papa. “We 
will get a trap.” 

“ It is very strange,” said Mamma again, 
“ the girls declare that the noises seem to come 
from the old well. That is what all our ser- 
vants have said for years. You know some of 
them have been so frightened that they gave 


98 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 


us notice, because of the noises in the well. 
They think it is bewitched.” 

“What is ‘ bewitched/ Mamma?” asked 
Rob. 

“ Pooh, pooh ! ” said Rob’s papa. “ It is only 
rats, I know, and the noises do not come from 
the well, but from the wall. There must be a 
rat’s nest in the wall close by the well. I have 
heard about those noises ever since I was a 
little boy. Sometimes I used to think that 
I heard them myself, and I fancied all sorts 
of queer things. But of course it was nothing 
but rats.” 

Rob had been listening with round eyes, 
and now he cried eagerly, “ 0 Papa ! I did 
not know that there was a well under the 
house. How did it come there, and what is it 
for?” 

“ Oh, yes, there is an old well,” said his papa. 
“ It has been down there longer than I can re- 
member, for it is even older than the house, — 
older than the city, too, I daresay. It was an 
Indian spring, and my great-grandfather built 
the house over it, so as to have fresh water 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 


99 


always conveniently at hand. It is covered now 
with a trapdoor, so that no one can fall in by 
mistake. That is why you never saw it, Rob.” 

“ An old Indian spring ! ” cried Rob excit- 
edly, “ and we drink that very same water 
every day ! How splendid ! ” He sipped some 
water from his glass and smacked his lips. 

“ Oh, no,” said his papa laughing. “ This 
is ordinary spring water bought at the store. 
Our old well has not been used for years and 
years. Since the city has been built up so 
closely around our house, which was one of the 
first ones here on the Hill, we have not dared 
to use the well water, because it might not be 
clean. I dare say the well is quite dry by this 
time. I have not looked into it for years.” 

“ 0 Papa ! I want to look down into the 
well ! ” cried Rob. 

“ Well, you shall do so some time,” said his 
papa as they rose from the table. 66 But I am 
in a hurry now. Good-by, Mamma. Good-by, 
Rob. I will buy a trap on my way down town 
to-day, and we will put an end to the noises 
in the cellar which trouble Katie.” 

Loft). 


100 THE INDIAN FAIRY 

Now of course Rob was very anxious to see 
that well, for he loved everything that had to 
do with Indians. He thought that he could not 
wait for his father to show it to him. He ran 
into the kitchen and began to bother Katie. 

“ Katie, Katie,” he begged. “ Please come 
into the cellar and show me the old well. I 
want to look down into it.” 

“ The Saints preserve us ! ” cried Katie, lift- 
ing up her hands in horror. “ What for do 
ye want to be lookin’ into the well ? No, me 
b’y ! It ’s I that will be kapin’ away from that 
same, and thank ye kindly. ’T is bewitched it 
is, what with the funny little noises a-comin’ 
out of it day and night.” 

“ What funny little noises, Katie ? ” asked 
Rob. “ Papa says it is rats. He is going to 
buy a trap to catch them.” 

“ Rats ! A trap ! ” sniffed Katie scornfully. 
u ’T is no rats at all do be makin’ them quare 
little noises. ’ T is bewitched, I tell ye. ’T is 
stark bewitched, that well. And I would n’t 
go near it at all for the promise of a new 
bonnet.” 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 101 

“ What does 6 bewitched ’ mean, Katie ? ” 
asked Rob again. 

Katie wagged her head and mysteriously 
made the sign of the cross. 

“ Oh, who will be tellin’ ye that ? If it was 
in the owld country I ’d say it was Fairies or 
maybe the Leprechaun himself. But I never 
heard tell o’ Fairies in this land, at all. Maybe 
’t is something worse. But oh ! The funny 
little noises ! ” 

“ What noises, Katie ? ” begged Rob. 

“ Oh, the little whinhT and sobbing like one 
wantin’ to get out. ’Tis no rats live in the 
owld well. Would rats be whimperin’ and 
beggin’ like ? ” 

“ Begging, Katie ! ” cried Rob. “ Oh, what 
do they say ? Please, please tell me quickly.” 

“ La, no ! Master Rob,” said Katie, looking 
sidewise at the little boy, “ your Mamma 
would n’t want me to be frightenin’ ye with 
tales the likes o’ these.” 

“But I ’m not frightened, Katie,” said Rob 
eagerly. “ I ’m just interested .” 

“ H’m,” said Katie doubtfully, glancing at 


102 THE INDIAN FAIRY 

the clock. “ Whisht! Master Rob! Tis a 
quarter to nine, and time for you to be startin’ 
for school, or you ’ll be late.” 

And indeed, Rob had to run all the way, 
and reached school barely in time. 

Rob’s papa did not forget to bring home a 
rat-trap that night, and after dinner he said, — 

“ Now, Rob, I am going down cellar to set 
the trap, and if you want to come with me I 
will show you the old well.” 

Of course Rob wanted to go. So Rob’s 
papa took a lighted candle in one hand, and 
the rat-trap nicely baited with cheese in the 
other, and they descended the steep cellar 
stairs together. It was very dark in the cellar, 
and the candle made queer flares on the walls 
and ceiling, and lighted up corners which Rob 
had never before seen. In the very darkest 
and dimmest corner of all, away in the back 
cellar, Rob’s papa paused, and then Rob saw 
that in the floor there was a trapdoor with an 
iron ring, quite like the Arabian Nights ! 

“ It is from somewhere hereabout that 
Katie says she hears the noises,” said Papa. 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 103 

“ W e will set the trap on the floor, close beside 
the wall, and I warrant we shall catch a big 
rat before many nights are over.” So he set 
the trap with the spring ready to catch the first 
greedy rat who should try to steal the cheese. 

“ Now let us look into the well,” said Rob’s 
papa. “ I have n’t lifted this cover for years. 
Ugh ! It is heavy enough ! ” He tugged at 
the iron ring and presently the cover flew back. 
Down below yawned a great black hole, very 
deep and seemingly quite empty. 

“ Here, Rob, take hold of my hand,” said 
his papa, “and you can look down.” Rob 
held tightly to his father’s hand, and bending 
over, peered into the well. The candle which 
his father held flickered and flamed and shot 
a shaft of light down into the strange hole. 

“I can’t see anything,” said Rob, disap- 
pointed. “I don’t think there is any water 
there. But — but I think I hear something ! 
A queer little noise like water trickling, or 
somebody whispering very softly.” 

“ The spring may be bubbling yet,” said 
his father. “ Katie, 0 Katie ! ” he called up- 


104 THE INDIAN FAIRY 

stairs. “ Please bring me a tin pail and a ball 
of stout twine. We will see whether the In- 
dian spring has run dry or not.” 

“ The faints preserve us ! ” Rob heard 
Katie cry in the kitchen above, as she went 
about to do as she was bid. And again Rob 
thought he heard a murmuring in the well. 

“ There is the queer noise again, Papa ! ” 
he cried. “ It sounds like some one talking a 
long way off.” 

“ Pooh, pooh ! ” said Papa. (He was al- 
ways saying, “ Pooh, pooh ” at Rob’s queer 
notions.) “ Run and get the pail and the 
cord, Sonny. Katie is afraid to come near 
the well. Ah ! Now we shall soon know.” 

He tied the cord to the handle of the pail, 
while Rob held the candle and they watched 
the pail descend. Down, down it went, until it 
disappeared into the blackness. “ Well, well ! ” 
said his father. “ Ten, twenty, I must have 
paid out thirty feet of cord already. I had for- 
gotten that the well was so deep. Hello ! There 
was a splash ; hear it, Rob ? ” 

Rob heard, — a quick splash, and again the 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 105 

queer little noise, a tinkle, a trickle, a rustle, 
a whisper. 

“ 0 Papa,” he cried, “ let me draw up the 
pail, please.” 

“Well, be very careful, Son,” said his fa- 
ther. And Rob began to pull on the cord, while 
his father held tightly to his jacket so that he 
should not fall down into the deep, black hole. 
The pail was rather heavy. It bumped against 
the sides of the well, tinkling and jingling as 
it came up. Rob thought that it jerked and 
wobbled strangely. But perhaps his hand was 
not quite steady, he was so excited. At last 
the pail came in sight, full of water. They 
drew it over the edge, Rob stooping eagerly 
to see. Filled to the brim it was, and running 
over. 

“ Clear water, as cold as ice,” said Rob’s 
Papa, dipping in his finger. “ Let us take it 
upstairs and see it in a better fight. I would 
not have believed that the old spring was still 
bubbling.” 

V ery carefully Rob carried the pail of water 
up the cellar stairs. “ Katie, 0 Katie ! ” he 


106 THE INDIAN FAIRY 

called. “ See the water from the old well ! 
From thirty feet down in the darkness it 
came.” 

“ The Saints preserve us ! ” cried Katie. 
(She was always saying that.) “ I wouldn’t 
touch water from the witch-well for any money 
ye could offer.” 

“ It is clear and bright as glass/’ said Rob’s 
papa. 

“ 0 Papa ! Let me drink some,” cried Rob. 
“ I should so love to taste water from a real 
Indian spring.” 

“ 0 Mr. Evans ! Don’t let the b’y taste 
it ! ” begged Katie, clasping her hands. “ It 
will kill him, the p’isen water ! ” 

“No, Rob,” said Mr. Evans, “I think 
Katie is right. It might be dangerous to drink 
the water. But it looks delicious. What a 
pity that we cannot use spring water from 
our own ancestral well, instead of buying it 
at the store as every one else must ! ” 

“Please, Papa — just one little sip?” 
begged Rob. 

“ No, not one little sip, Son. Here, Katie, 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 


107 


empty the pail of water into the sink,” said 
Mr. Evans firmly. 

Tremblingly Katie took the pail and went 
with it to the sink. But she had not turned 
half the water away when she gave a scream. 

“ Ow ! The whimperin’ and cryin’ ! Hark 
till it ! ” she shrieked. And indeed, it seemed 
to Rob that the water sobbed and moaned as 
it ran down the sink spout. Suddenly he had 
an idea. 

“It is too bad to let the beautiful fresh 
Indian spring water run into the horrid old 
sewer,” he said. “ Please, Papa, come with me 
and let me pour it back into the well.” 

“Pooh, pooh !” laughed Mr. Evans. “What 
an idea ! You are as silly as Katie, Rob. I 
don’t want you to get strange ideas into your 
head. But — well, come along, since you are 
so anxious that the famous water should not 
be wasted. I want to cover up the well tightly, 
so that no one can fall in.” 

Downstairs they went once more, Rob carry- 
ing the pail half full of water, which he poured 
back into the well. With a glad splash it 


108 THE INDIAN FAIRY 

joined the hidden spring far, far below, and 
again Rob felt sure that he caught the sound 
of a whispering voice, tinkling, trickling, sigh- 
ing, sobbing, as if it were trying to say some- 
thing to him, perhaps to thank him. He bent 
over the well, listening eagerly. But his father 
pulled him back by the hand. 

“ Come, Rob,” he said. “ I want to put the 
cover in place, and then we must go upstairs. 
It is time that you were in bed.” 

So they let down the cover with a bang ! 
and Rob went away with his father out of 
the dark cellar and into the gaslight. But the 
sound of those queer little noises followed 
after him, upstairs and upstairs, and even after 
he was in bed. 

II 

The queer little sounds followed Rob up- 
stairs, and even after he was in bed he could 
hear them echoing from far below in the cel- 
lar. At first they were only little trickly 
sounds, like water seekling afar off. But by 
and by, when the house was very still, because 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 109 

everybody except Rob had fallen sound asleep, 
the noises grew louder and plainer. They grew 
into a soft murmur, sometimes a sob, some- 
times the whisper of a little silver voice. And 
at the same time there was a gentle knocking. 
Rob listened and listened as hard as ever he 
could, and he said to himself, — 

“ Surely, Katie is right. There is something 
strange about the cellar, and I think it comes 
from the old well. What can it be ? ” 

Finally the voice sounded so loud and so 
plain that Rob could hear distinctly what it 
was saying, and it seemed to be talking to him. 

“ Let me out ; ah, let me out ! ” cried the 
silvery, trickly voice, and again Rob heard 
the knocking. “ Good little boy, you who 
would not let the water of the Indian spring 
be wasted, come and free me from my prison 
of so many years.” 

A prisoner ! Some one was shut up in the 
old well ! Rob sat up in bed. He must set 
the prisoner free. He was not a bit frightened 
at the thought of going down all alone into 
the cellar, for he knew that there was nothing 


110 THE INDIAN FAIRY 

more to be afraid of in the dark than in the 
daylight. He got up and thrust his feet into 
a pair of slippers and put on his bath robe. 
Then very softly, so as not to waken anybody 
in the house, he crept downstairs : down to 
the floor where his father and mother slept, — 
he could hear them breathing as he passed the , 
door ; down past the library where the books 
lived and all night long told silent stories to 
one another in the moonlight; down to the 
empty dining-room, and through to the kitchen. 
Here Rob found a candle on a shelf and lighted 
it. Then, taking this in one hand and holding 
up his trailing bath robe with the other, he 
stole down the cellar stairs. The voice was call- 
ing now louder than ever, and with it sounded 
the knocking, which certainly came from the 
old well. 

“Let me out, 0 kind boy ! ” sobbed the sil- 
very, tinkling voice. “ Let me out. Oh ! I 
thought I was free to-day, but alas ! Here I 
remain yet a prisoner, for how many more long 
years ? 0 kind little boy, the first one to do 
me a good turn, let me out, let me out ! ” 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 111 

Rob hastened to the corner in which was 
the old well. And as he drew near, the voice 
became plainer and plainer, and the knockings 
louder and louder. He set the candle down on 
the floor beside the rat-trap which his father 
had baited that afternoon, and his heart beat 
fast as he bent over the cover of the well and 
seized the iron ring in both hands. Should he 
be able to lift it ? 

One — two — three! Rob strained hard, 
but the cover would not budge. One — two 
— three, again ! It was so heavy for a little 
boy to lift. One — two — three ! Once more ! 
Rob felt the cover move a tiny bit. The 
noises down in the well had ceased suddenly. 
It was very still. Rob could hear his heart 
thumping like the screw of a steamboat. 
Now, for one last time ! One — two — three ! 
The cover came up suddenly, so suddenly that 
Rob nearly went over backward. There below 
yawned the great black hole of the well. 

“ Oh ! ” said Rob, drawing a long breath. 

“ Oh!" Was it an echo, or a soft little 
voice, far, far below ? 


112 THE INDIAN FAIRY 

Rob took up the candle and peered down 
into the well. But he could see nothing. “ Is 
any one down there ? ” he asked. At first there 
was no answer, and then there came a tinkly, 
trickly sound like water bubbling, which 
turned at last into a whispered “ Yes ! ” There 
certainly was some one in the old well ! 

“Who are you?” said Rob, tingling all 
over with excitement. 

“ Oh, little friend, kind boy,” said the voice, 
“ I am the Fairy of the Indian spring, shut 
up here for years and years, unable to get out. 
I have called and called, but you are the first 
who has come to aid me.” 

“ What can I do to help you ? ” asked Rob 
eagerly. 

“ Let down the bucket as you did this after- 
noon,” said the voice. “ Let down the bucket 
and draw me up.” 

The pail with the ball of twine lay close be- 
side the well, where Rob’s papa had forgotten 
it that afternoon. Rob set the candle down on 
the floor and began to lower the pail into the 
well. Yard after yard after yard the hungry 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 


113 


throat swallowed the cord. Finally he heard 
the pail splash as it reached the water. He 
waited a moment. The pail bobbed about and 
then grew heavy on the cord. Then the silver 
voice cried, “ Draw up, draw up, kind boy ! ” 

Rob pulled on the cord eagerly, — pulled 
and pulled without looking down into the 
well, until the pail tinkled against the bricks 
of the cellar floor. In the flare of the candle- 
light Rob saw that it was full of water. But 
that was not all ! Standing with feet braced 
across the top of the pail, clinging to the 
cord, was the strangest little figure about 
six inches high; a little figure dressed all 
in brown, with black hair and bright eyes. 
When the pail rested on the cellar floor he 
leaped off and stood before Rob, bowing, 
with one hand laid upon his head. 

And then Rob saw that it was a tiny Indian. 
His brown dress was soft like deerskin, and 
his leggings were fringed. His limp black hair 
fell over a face of red-bronze, with high cheek- 
bones and pouting lips. In his hair he wore 
a tiny blue feather, perhaps from a blue jay’s 


114: THE INDIAN FAIRY 

wing, and in his hands he carried the sweet- 
est little toy bow, while a quiver of inch-long 
arrows hung on his shoulders. His feet were 
covered with moccasins, and he was the exact 
copy of a Wild West Indian ; only he looked 
like one seen through the wrong end of an 
opera-glass. 

“ Oh — you must be an Indian Fairy,” 
cried Rob, with his eyes bulging. 

“ Yes, Friend,” said the tiny one. “ I am 
an Indian Fairy, the Fairy of the Indian spring. 
And you have brought me up for the second 
time this day, though you did not see me the 
first time. This is the second time during fifty 
years that I have left the well. Ah, must I 
go back again ? ” Despite the warlike appear- 
ance of the little man his silvery voice began 
to tremble. 

“ Tell me all about it,” said Rob soothingly. 

“ I am the Fairy who lived by the spring 
years, and years, and years ago, before the 
White Men came to Shawmut,” said the Fairy. 

“ What is Shawmut ? ” asked Rob, wonder- 
ing. 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 


115 


“ Shawmut is the Indian name of this place,” 
said the Fairy. “ It means the Place of Springs, 
and it was so named because of the many 
bubbling springs on the hillside above the 
river. Oh ! there were many, many of us. I 
had dozens of brothers. But my spring was in 
the fairest spot. This water was the sweetest 
and clearest of any.. Heigho ! How often the 
great braves used to kneel here for a refresh- 
ing draught when they returned from the hunt 
or from war ! They never saw me, for I hid in 
the moss about the spring. But I loved to look 
at them, they were so big and wonderful.” 

“ Oh, what did they look like?” asked Rob 
eagerly, for Rob loved to hear about Indians. 

“ They dressed as I do,” said the Fairy. 
u But sometimes their faces were painted 
green or red or blue. And I could see no 
good in that. Sometimes they wore tassels of 
hair at their belts. Ugh ! I did not like that 
fashion. Sometimes their hands were red, 
and when they went away the waters of my 
spring were stained. Ugh ! Neither did I like 
that. But they were brave and strong and 


116 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 


noble. I loved the Red Men, for they lived 
out of doors in the sweet sunlight, as I did. 
They loved the fresh air and the blue sky and 
the green grass. They would have no stifling 
roof over their heads to shut out the sky ; no 
four walls to keep off the fresh air. Ugh ! I 
cannot breathe in a house. I stifle ! I choke ! ” 

“ Then how did you come to be shut up in 
this house ?” asked Rob, wondering very much. 

“ Listen. The White Men came to Shaw- 
mut ; White Men with cows and dogs, women 
and children. They built houses on the Hill, 
near the bubbling springs, and planted corn. 
They drove away the Red Men, and I loved 
them not, for they were different. They wore 
ugly dark garments, hats and short cropped 
hair. They lived in close wigwams, and cared 
nothing for fresh air and blue sky. Neither 
did they love the trees, but cut them down to 
burn, and mowed the flowers for their ugly 
ploughed fields. The woods and the streams 
meant nothing to them but places wherein 
they might hunt and fish, which they did 
gloomily. For they were solemn folk and sad. 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 117 

They thought it wicked to laugh merrily, as 
the brook laughs, or to smile like the flowers. 
Even the little children dared not be too gay, 
but were afraid of their fathers ! ” 

“ That must have been a horrid time for 
children,” said Rob. 

“ Alas ! It was indeed a sad time for every- 
body,” went on the Fairy. “ The brave Red 
Men were gone. Even the rabbits and squir- 
rels were gone. The Hill was peopled with 
solemn and ugly folk, who dared not be 
happy, and it was no longer beautiful as be- 
fore. Yet I could not go away and leave my 
spring, my dear spring, which ran sweet and 
clear as ever. It was the favorite fountain of 
the Puritans, and crouching down under the 
moss and ferns I watched them come and go, 
gloomily, filling their buckets and pitchers. 
But I loved them not, and I hoped that the 
Red Men would come back and drive them 
away. But the Red Men never came again.” 

“And what happened next?” asked Rob, 
much interested. 

“Years went by, and the Hill became 


118 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 


crowded with the White Men’s ugly wigwams. 
The springs still bubbled, but it was a sad 
song that they sang, for everything was 
changed. But that was not the worst. Came 
a day when a man built a house over my very 
spring ! He shut in the bubbling water under 
a roof, between four ugly walls, where the 
blue sky could no longer shine upon it nor 
the fresh air visit it freely! Alas! Would 
that I had escaped before then. I might have 
gone earlier, though it would have been sor- 
rowful to desert my lonely spring. But I had 
not guessed what was about to happen until 
it was too late. I had not thought that even a 
White Man could be so cruel as to wall up a 
living spring. I was asleep under the moss 
and ferns when they raised the roof over me. 
Alas ! I did not even waken at the sound of 
their wicked hammers. But when I opened 
my eyes it was too late. There was a screen 
between me and the sky ! ” 

“ Why did you not run away? ” asked Rob 
sympathetically. 

“ Oh, you do not understand,” answered the 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 119 

Fairy with a sad little smile. “I might have 
escaped at any time before the roof covered 
me. But as soon as there was a roof above my 
head, and four walls rose around me, I was 
under the magic spell of the White Men. I 
could not go away, even though the doors and 
windows were yet yawning holes. I must re- 
main, even as the well must remain, until some 
one should take pity on me and set me free.” 

“ And could you find no one to do that in 
all those years?” cried Rob. 

“Alas! No. The people who lived in the 
house were dull folk who did not believe in 
Fairies. For many years and many years I 
have remained shut up in the darkness of this 
cellar, pining in the deserted well. It is quite 
useless and forgotten. Long ago the ferns and 
mosses died, and I have no green thing left 
to love, nothing beautiful to see.” 

“ Poor Fairy ! ” said Rob, and the tears 
stood in his eyes. 

“ I have cried, I have called, I have knocked 
on the walls of the well,” said the Fairy, 
“but no one has seemed to hear my voice. 


120 THE INDIAN FAIRY 

Or if folk heard they have not understood. 
Years ago some one who stepped as you step, 
whose voice sounded like yours — I never saw 
his face — used to come sometimes and listen 
at the well, and I heard him wish and won- 
der. But that was all.” 

“ It must have been my father ! ” exclaimed 
Rob, remembering what had been said at the 
breakfast table. 

“ But he could not understand what I tried 
to tell him,” went on the Fairy. “ He won- 
dered and walked about, but he always went 
away without doing anything. It was as if I 
spoke a foreign language. But you see I do 
not. You understand me quite well, is it not 
so?” 

“ Oh, yes ! ” cried Rob. “ A nd yet it is very 
strange. It is not language such as others 
speak. It is like trickling water that makes 
words.” 

The Fairy laughed. “ It is not language at 
all,” he said. “ But you know it. There were 
women, too ; women with loud voices and a 
curious twist to their tongues. They heard 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 


121 


my voice, some of them seemed even to under- 
stand what I cried. For I heard them exclaim 
and wonder and talk of the Fairy Folk. The 
first time that this happened I was hopeful. 
Surely, I said to myself, they know the Fairies. 
They say that they come from a Green Land 
where many Fairies live. Surely, surely they 
will love the Little Men of another country. 
They will understand why I long for green 
grass and blue sky and fresh air. They will 
help me to escape. But no ! They were cow- 
ards. They screamed and fainted when I spoke 
from the old well. They must have had wicked 
hearts, for they feared the Fairies. They dared 
not come near, but complained to the master 
and mistress, and would not live in the same 
house with me.” 

“ Silly things ! ” said Rob. “ Katie was one 
of them.” 

“ So to please them the well was covered,” 
sighed the Fairy, “ and then it was worse than 
ever. Think how dark, how lonely, how ugly 
a home it was for an Indian Fairy who loved 
the free, open life of outdoors ! Oh, for the 


122 THE INDIAN FAIRY 

green woods, the sunshine and blue sky ! The 
song of birds and the odor of flowers ! Oh, to 
feel the soft green moss, and taste the dew 7 
fresh in the morning ! Please let me out, kind 
boy, that I may know those joys again ! ” 

“ Dear Fairy,” said Rob hesitatingly, “ I 
am so sorry, but to find all these things, save 
the sky and air, one must now seek far from 
here. The White Men have driven them away, 
just as they drove the Indians, the squirrels, 
and the rabbits. There is no green grass, there 
are no flowers, no moss, no ferns on all the 
Hill.” 

“ What do you tell me ! ” cried the Fairy. 
“ My Hill is no longer beautiful ? ” 

“ It is beautiful,” said Rob. “ At least, the 
White Men call it so. But the wigwams are 
thick and very tall, shutting out the sunlight 
from the paths between. And these paths are 
dusty, hard streets, with neither grass nor trees 
nor flowers.” 

“ Oh, why do White Men try so hard to 
make the world ugly ? ” wailed the poor In- 
dian Fairy. “ How can they five away from 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 


123 


the woods and the flowers and the beautiful, 
beautiful green grass ! Where shall I go ? 
What shall I do ? ” 

* Rob thought and wondered, and thought 
again. And at last he had an idea. “ There 
is a green country not so very far from here,” 
he said. u One goes there in an electric car, — 
but you don’t know what a car is. Never mind. 
I went there yesterday and brought away some 
beautiful ferns, growing in the mossy earth.” 

“ Oh, that I might see them ! ” cried the 
Fairy eagerly. “ One sniff of leafy mould, one 
breath of the woods lingering about the tufted 
moss ! To lie once more in the shadow of a 
fern and feel its freshness on my face ! Where 
is this woodsy wonder ? ” 

“ It is upstairs in my bedroom,” answered 
Rob. “ Will you come with me ? ” 

The Fairy hesitated, looked at the pail of 
water resting beside the well, and brightened 
with a sudden thought. 

“ Yes ! ” he cried. “ I know what may be 
done. You can set me free, kind boy, you 
only, of all the folk who have come to the In- 


124 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 


dian spring since the Red Men left it. The 
spell which binds me to the spring and chains 
me beneath the roof can only be broken when 
the water is set free again to mother earth. 
Yesterday I came near to being emptied into 
the horrible sewer. You heard my cry as the 
first of the water was lost. You saved me. 
For had the pail been emptied then I must 
have followed. And to what a fate ! ” 

“It empties at last into the ocean,” said 
Rob. 

“ And that would have been the end of me,” 
shivered the Fairy. “Salt water is the one 
thing which would destroy me utterly. But 
come now. I know how I may be freed. Take 
the pail of water and bring me with it to the 
blessed clump of ferns.” 

Rob agreed ; he took up the candle in one 
hand and the pail of water in the other. 
Lightly as a bird the Fairy sprang upon the 
rim of the pail, clinging to the cord. And so 
they went together up out of the cellar, through 
the empty kitchen and dining-room ; very 
softly up the stairs, past the library of silent- 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 


125 


talking books ; up and up, very, very creepily 
past the bedroom door ajar, whence Rob heard 
the sound of his father and mother snoring 
peacefully ; up and up and up, tiptoeing so 
as not to wake Katie, to Rob’s own cham- 
ber. And there on the window-seat stood a big 
flower-pot with the beautiful ferns which the 
day before Rob had dug up in the woods. 
The Fairy smelled them as soon as he entered 
the room. 

“ Ah ! ” he cried, laying both little hands on 
his breast, “ How good that is ! Dear boy, 
empty the water quickly from the pail into the 
earth brought from the woods, and I shall be 
free to lie under my dear ferns once more.” 

Rob emptied the pail into the flower-pot. 
And as the last drop of water trickled from 
the bucket, with a glad cry that sounded like 
the tiniest of Indian war-whoops, the Fairy 
leaped into the moist little dell which the 
ferns made, and curled up against one of the 
stalks, hugging it lovingly. 

“ Dear fern ! ” he cried. “ Dear woodsy 
fern ! How sweet you smell. Dear moss, how 


126 THE INDIAN FAIRY 

soft you are ! Dear fragrant earth, made of 
dead leaves and all the ripe finished things of 
the forest ! Oh, I am myself once more. Dear 
boy, you have made me very happy.” 

“And you will live here with me in my 
chamber, always and always, dear Fairy?” 
begged Rob eagerly. “ That will be so good ! 
I shall be happy indeed to have you for my 
little neighbor. And I will never, never tell 
any one about you, nor let them disturb your 
green home.” 

The Fairy looked at Rob and sighed. 
“ Little friend,” he said, “ I love you dearly. 
I would gladly make you happy. But I have 
yet one more thing to ask of you. Think of 
it ! Even now I am shut under a White Man’s 
roof, — I, an Indian Fairy ! So many years 
in a foreign wigwam, walled in a dark, sky- 
less well ! Oh ! Let me go back to the green 
wood. Let me be free once more like the 
rabbits and the squirrels. Will you set me 
free, even though it means that you will never 
see me again ? ” 

Rob looked at the Fairy and his lip trem- 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 127 

bled. “ I hoped ” — he began. But he took 
a long breath and said to himself, “ I will not 
be selfish. I will be kind and do as I would 
be done by.” Then he spoke aloud. “ Tell me 
how I may set you free, dear Fairy, and I will 
do it.” 

“ Ah, my kind friend ! ” cried the Fairy, “ I 
knew you would be generous ! This, then, 
you shall do for me. I will sleep to-night in 
your chamber, and to-morrow, when the sun 
is high, you shall take up the ferns out of the 
flower-pot, these ferns all moist with the water 
of the Indian spring. You shall take them up, 
and me with them, — though you will not see 
me after daylight, — and carry them to the 
woods whence you took them. And when you 
set them back in the ground of the forest 
where they grew, then I shall be free, free, 
free ! Oh, dear boy, will you do this for me?” 

“Yes, I will do this for you,” said Rob 
gravely. 

“ Thanks, thanks ! ” cried the Fairy. “ And 
now, the night is almost done. I think I 
feel the daylight coming. You will see me no 


128 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 


more. But I shall be sleeping soundly under 
the fern. And do you likewise go to rest in 
your little bed. Look ! You are shivering with 
cold ! But to-morrow do not forget your 
promise.” 

“I will not forget,” said Rob, feeling in- 
deed very cold and shivery. He crept away to 
his little bed, and was soon sound asleep, warm 
and comfy. 


Ill 

It was late when Rob woke the next morn- 
ing. At first he thought that the adventure 
with the Indian Fairy must have been a dream. 
But as soon as he sat up in bed he saw the tin 
pail on the floor beside the window seat, and 
the fern moist and green in the flower-pot. 
So he knew that it must all have been true. 
But he could not see the Fairy himself, though 
he knew that the little fellow must be snugly 
curled up under the green fronds of the fern. 

When he came down to the breakfast table 
his father and mother were talking earnestly 
about something. 


THE INDIAN FAIRY 129 

“ It is a wonder he was n’t killed ! ” said his 
Mamma, shuddering. “ Why did you ever 
show him that dreadful well ? ” 

“I shall have the cover screwed down,” 
said Mr. Evans. “ It really is n’t safe. “ Hello, 
Son ! You walked in your sleep again last 
night, did you know it? I suppose you don’t 
remember. But Mamma found one of your 
slippers outside the library door this morning, 
and Katie found the other on the cellar stairs. 
And Rob! The cover of the old well was 
open ! However did you lift it ? ” 

“ I don’t remember how I lifted it,” said 
Rob, quite truthfully, and he looked dazed. 

“ Well, we can’t have this, you know,” said 
his father. “ I shall have to lock your door 
every night. But we will have that old well 
screwed up hereafter. Perhaps that will satisfy 
Katie, though I think she will not be troubled 
with any more noises in the wall. She says 
that there was a big, big rat dead in the trap 
this morning.” 

And indeed, nobody ever heard any more 
noises in the cellar after Rob helped the In- 


130 THE INDIAN FAIRY 

dian Fairy to escape. That very morning, right 
after breakfast, — for it was a Saturday and 
there was no school, — he dug up the ferns 
which he had planted in his flower-pot, and put 
them in a little basket with the earth around 
their roots. Then he started to take the electric 
car which would carry him out of town to 
the woods. 

“ Where are you going, Rob ? ” asked his 
Mamma, seeing him with cap in hand. 

“ I am going to take my ferns back to the 
woods,” Rob answered. “ I think it is cruel 
to keep things that love the sunshine and the 
fresh air shut up in a house. I am sure that 
the ferns would much rather be back in the 
woods, don’t you think so, Mamma ? ” 

“ Well, I am sure I never thought of that ! ” 
said his Mamma. “ But you may go if you 
will be back in time for dinner.” 

So Rob took the ferns to the woods and set 
them back in their first home under a big 
gray rock, the prettiest little spot in the world 
for a Fairy to dwell ! But he saw nothing 
more of the Indian Fairy, though he looked 



ROB AND THE INDIAN FAIRY 






































THE INDIAN FAIRY 


133 


and looked ; and after he had started for home, 
went back there again three separate times to 
look, because he hated to part from his little 
new friend. But the last time he heard, or 
thought he heard, a very tiny, far-off, trickly 
voice say, — 

“ Farewell, my friend ! Farewell ! I am free, 
free, free ! And you shall always be happy 
when you come to the woods, even if you 
never see me. For I will make this charm 
about you, because you were kind. Farewell, 
farewell ! ” 

And this was the last that Rob ever heard 
of the Indian Fairy, though he went often 
and often to that same place in the woods ; but 
the Fairy charm did indeed prove true, and 
Rob was always very, very happy as soon as 
he came into the woods, happier than he was 
anywhere else. 


FAIRIES 


If I should see a Fairy, 

I should not be afraid, 

I know so much about them, 

From all that I have read. 

I ’ve planned how I would greet them, 
And what I ought to say ; 

I ’d have my Wish all ready, 

To save the least delay. 

I sometimes feel them near me, 

But still I cannot see. 

I wonder, oh ! I wonder, 

Are they afraid of me ? 











(£be toer^ibE $res£ 

Electrotyped and printed by H. O. Houghton Co. 
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THE FLOWER PRINCESS 

By ABBIE FARWELL BROWN 


“ Here is a return to the gracefully romantic fairy 
stories we all used to love. Four tales of adventure 
in the country where the unreal touches upon the 
real, prettily illustrated and written with the literary 
skill that always appeals to the good taste of a child.” 

The Outlook , New York . 

“ Delicate fancy and humor have gone into the mak- 
ing of these pretty tales for children, which prove 
again Miss Brown's title to be numbered among the 
story-tellers mothers may depend upon.” 

The Christian Register , Boston. 


Illustrated. Square i2mo, $1.00. 


HOUGHTON 
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IN THE DAYS OF GIANTS 

“ Miss Brown relates some of the bravest tales from 
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enchantment which appeals particularly to the youth- 
ful mind.” New York Globe. 

Illustrated by E. Boyd Smith. 
i2mo, $i.io, net. Postpaid, $ 1 . 21 . 

THE BOOK OF SAINTS 
AND FRIENDLY BEASTS 

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concerning saints and animals to tell again simply 
and with a pretty choice of word and phrase.” 

London Times. 
Illustrated by F. Y. Cory. 
i2mo, $1.25. 


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JUL 28 19C5 













































